Were my whole body festooned with eyes,
I would gaze at my Master with untiring zeal.
O, how I wish that every pore of my body Would turn into a million eyes -
Then, as some closed to blink, others would open to see!
But even then my thirst to see him,
Might remain unquesnched. What else am I to do?
To me, O Bahu, a glimpse of my Master,
Is worth millions of pilgrimages to the holy Ka'ba!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem