3

There goes my Beloved, my sweet Lord,

The anklets ringing on His Feet.

I hear the music of His Flute

Vibrating through the horizons.

If ever my cowherd boy should cast a glance

Behind Him, still He only goes forward.

Let my eyes follow the track

My Beloved treads.

In the twilight hour of the day,

With a sweet and serene smile,

Leading the herds of varied light,

My cowherd boy goes.


From:Sri Chinmoy,The caged bird and the uncaged bird, Agni Press, 1998
Sourced from https://srichinmoylibrary.com/cbu