Guest guest Posted January 26, 2002 Report Share Posted January 26, 2002 radhe krishna! namo narayana dear bhaagavatas, here is the next part 2 mira bai's poems on kanna. FOURTH POEM *********** he rî maim to prema dîvânî, merâ dard na jâne koya sûlî ûpara seja hamârî, kisa bidha sonâ hoya gagana maNDala pai seja piyâ kî, kisa bidha milana hoya ghâyala kî gati ghâyala jânai, kî jina lâî hoya jauhar kî gati jauhar jânai, kî jina jauhar hoya dard kî mârî bana bana Dolûm baida milâ nahim koya mîrâ kî prabhu pîra miTaigî jaba baida sâmvaliyâ hoya Oh oh! I'm love-crazy. No one knows my pain. My bed is over the gallows. How could I sleep? My lover's bed is in heaven's mandala. How could I get to him? The one who is wounded knows what a wound means, what it means to be burned. The jeweler knows what it means to be a jeweler, what it means to have a jewel. Afflicted by pain, I wander from forest to forest. Can't get a doctor. O Lord, Mira's torment will be wiped out when the doctor is the Dark Lover. FIFTH POEM ********** mere to giridhara gupâla, dûsarâ na koî jâ ke sira mora mukuTa, mero pati soî tâta, mâta, bhrâta, bandhu, apanâ nahim koî châRa daî, kula kî kâna, kyâ karegâ koî santana Dhiga baiThi baiThi, loka lâja khoî cunarî ke kiyâ Tûka Tûka, oRha lînaha loî motî mûnge utâra bana mâlâ poî ansuvana jala sîñci prema beli boî aba to beli phaila gaî, nanda phala hoî dûdha kî mathaniyâ baRe prema se biloî mâkhana jaba kâRhi liyo, châcha piye koî âî maim bhakti kâja, jagat dekha roî dâsî mîrâ giridhara premu târe aba moî Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. 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 strung a garland of wildwood flowers. With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. The churner of the milk churned with great love. When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: now with love He takes me across to the further shore. lottsa krishna premai kalaivani radhe govindaa namo venkateshaya hari hari _______________ Join the world’s largest e-mail service with MSN Hotmail. http://www.hotmail.com Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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