I Am Pale With Longing For My Beloved; Poem by Mirabai

I Am Pale With Longing For My Beloved;

Rating: 3.4

I am pale with longing for my beloved;
People believe I am ill.
Seizing on every possible pretext,
I try to meet him 'by accident.'

They have sent for a country doctor;
He grabs my arm and prods it;
How can he diagnose my pain?
It's in my heart that I am afflicted.

Go home, country doctor,
Don't address me by my name;
It's the name of God that has wounded me,
Don't force your medicines on me.

The sweetness of his lips is a pot of nectar,
That's the only curd for which I crave;
Mira's Lord is Giridhar Naagar.
He will feed me nectar again and again.

[Translated by Nita Ramaiya]

Sylvia Frances Chan 14 August 2020

This poem impressed me. She lived in an entire other era, but her poems are as it is now, the present time, exactly like our Royal family, so true. Thanks for sharing this brilliant poem

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Madhabi Banerjee 16 December 2016

very good translation.thanks for sharing

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Ananda Adi 07 September 2016

The pattern repeats across the centuries: the intoxicating love of the saint is not understood by the common man, who looks to apply his cures and reasonings so, among many things, he may ease himself from the vulnerability he feels in the presence of the holy personage before him.

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Abderrahmane Dakir 01 January 2016

I like it so much, filled with a love feeling. Thank you for sharing.

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Abderrahmane Dakir 01 January 2016

I love it so much. The longing is the most feeling in the beloved's heart. Thank you for sharing.

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Kudki / India
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