the destructive fire, vadvaagni;And in the breast of man doth ragethe fire of wrath.When the fire breaks out, its flamesof angry, abusive words,sear and scorch and burn.But if one ponders unruffled and calm,and weighs the words, though angry they be,They have no substance, no, nor weight.
Like in laughing, sneezing, coughing or yawning.Is He off from anywhereBefore you He remains all the year round.Near you He is,Recognise Him,
From its jungle abodeI brought the lion downas I a jackal would;(From pleasures of the worldI pulled my mind away).I practiced what I preached,and scored the goal.
I gave the same message,In my lifetime, I found Him asThe only one, all-pervading God:What’s the source of food and feed?
wearing the sky.Look at this glowing day! What clothescould be so beautiful, ormore scared?[Taken from Poetry for the Spirit: Poems of Universal Wisdom and Beauty, Edited by Alan Jacobs]
to be a recluse, or choosea family, the village job.If you know the pure Lord within you,you’ll be That, wherever.
A wooden bow and rush grass for an arrow:A carpenter unskilled and a palace to build:A shop unlocked in a busy bazaar:A body uncleansed by waters holy-Oh dear! who knows what hath befallen me?
My bony frame bentInto a bow;What load can my back bear,Dear Friend?Loss of the Guru’s word added saltTo my suffering:A shepherdless flock becameMy sheep:What can I bear ?
Are free, realised souls:Limitless, infinite,Hundreds of hundreds of timesIntertwined are the ignorantIn the cycle of life and death
Feed it whenever it feels famished.Fie on your fasts and religious rites;Do good: therein your duty lies.
