Harish Meenashru1

Rookie (3rd January 1953 / Anand)

Love Hymn 17 - Poem by Harish Meenashru1

Such is lovely sport of love n such is its nature
Either shall you call me, Dear, or do come closer

Beams of the moon go on spreading gentle grace
O Ocean of the gems, ye do come to my embrace

As lingers in the body, fever ever since so long
Be your heart my home to which ever I belong

The spasm of the pain, that is real love-pleasure
Remedy or wound: say, which one is superior

Show not any direction to little lighted lamp
Is there any spot wherein light pitches the camp?

Get up and befool the world, itself - the illusory
Two n half -a love-count, ye commit to memory

Make me cheerful with this milk-n-honey drink
This pang of separation, - only then it shall sink

To lover’s countryside, friend, let us make a move
the fulfillment of life, thru devotion, does accrue

A Gujarati poem by Harish Meenashru. Translation by Dr. Piyush Joshi and Harish Meenashru.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, June 11, 2007

Poem Edited: Thursday, March 10, 2011

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