Tired and exhausted was I, asking time and again;
Out of Nothing emerged Something, bewildering and great!
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I searched for my Self
but no one, I know now,reaches the hidden knowledgeby means of effort.Then, absorbed in ‘Thou art This,’I found the place of Wine.There all the jars are filled,but no one is left to drink.[Taken from Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women, Edited by Jane Hirshfield]
Draped in stores of knowledge,
That Lalla sang, became,Organic parts of her heart and soul;Her self-consciousness awakenedAnd removed all doubts of death.
Keep your mind intent upon
Should it stray from the path,it will fall into evil ways.Be firm with it and have no fear;For mind is like a suckling baby,which tosses restless even in its mother’s lap.
What is bitter at first is sweet in the end,
(To everyone is given the choice)It all depends on the effort put in,and the unflagging determined will;For whoever strives must soon arrive at the city of his choice.
Why do you dote upon someone, my Soul,
Why have you taken the false for the true?Why can’t you understand, why can’t you know?It is ignorance that binds you to the false,To the ever-recurring wheel of birth and death,this coming and going.
If you’ve melted your desires
to be a recluse, or choosea family, the village job.If you know the pure Lord within you,you’ll be That, wherever.