Though You poured light,
I could not see my real self.

O effulgent consciousness,
though You were in light,
I did not want to see You.

I continued seeking on earth
commodities as objects of enjoyment.
But I did not search the entity
for whom enjoyment was meant.
I saw only the action and not the real doer.
Not even did I think of the real doer.

I kept hailing the superiority of inert matter,
looking for totality in it.
Forgetting whatever You had given me,
I never treaded the path of illumination.