249 (01/02/1983) D


TOMÁRI ÁSÁ PATHA
CÁHIYÁ ÁCHI JE ÁMI
SHUNILE NÁ MOR KATHÁ
EKHANO ÁSIYÁ TUMI

ÁJIKE HIYÁ MAMA,
VARAŚÁ KETAKII SAMA
SURABHI VILÁYE CALE
VIJANE VÁTÁS CUMI
SURABHI BHESE CALE
SURABHI BHESE CALE
CARÁCARE NABHONIILE
JHARÁ PARÁGERA VYATHÁ
SHUNIBE NÁ KI GO TUMI

TOMÁRI ÁSÁ PATHA
CÁHIÁ ÁCHI JE ÁMI
SHUNILE NÁ MOR KATHÁ
EKHANO ÁSIYÁ TUMI







I have been waiting for You by the arrival path.
You did not come nor listened to me until now.

Today, my heart resembles the ketakii (screw pine) flower
of the rainy season that looses all its fragrance to the wind,
remaining standing empty handed in solitude.


And yet, that fragrance spreads out across the blue sky.
To the agony of a withered pollen, do You not listen?