All I was doing was being, and the Dancing Energy came by my house.
His face looks curiously like the moon, I saw it from the side, smiling.
My family says: ‘Don’t ever see him again!’ And they imply things in a low voice.
But my eyes have their own life; they laugh at rules, and know whose they are.
I believe I can bear on my shoulders whatever you want to say of me.
Mira says: Without the energy that lifts mountains, how am I to live?
“Become so still you hear the blood flowingthrough your veins.”One night as I sat in quiet,I seemed on the verge of entering a world inside so vastI know it is the source ofall ofus.
a delight to this feverish heart.Season of rain,season of uncontrolled whispers—the Dark One’s returning!O swollen heart,O sky brimming with moisture—tongued lightning firstand then thunder,convulsive spatters of rainand then wind, chasing the summertime heat.Mira says: Dark One,I’ve waited—it’s time to take my songsinto the street.
You have gone off to distant lands,And my heart finds it unbearable.I keep sending letters to my BelovedAsking when He will return.Mira’s Lord is the courtly Giridhara:O Krishna, O Brother of Balram,Grant me thy sight.
O my companion,Once I awoke with a start from a dream.Now the remembrance from that visionNever fades.My life is ebbing as I choke and sigh,When will the Lord of the Afflicted comeI have lost my senses and gone mad,But the Lord knows my secret.He who deals out life and deathKnows the secret of Mira’s pain.
Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own.I’ve forsaken both God, and the family’s honor: what should I do?I’ve sat near the holy ones, and I’ve lost shame before the people.I’ve torn my scarf into shreds; I’m all wrapped up in a blanket.I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and…
Your look of light,stills all,The curd-potfalls to the ground.Parents andbrothersall call a halt.Prise out, they say,this thing from your heart.You’ve lost your path.Says Meera:Who but youcan see in the darkof a heart?
