Lord, will You never come within our easy reach?
How long shall we yearn for You?
Is there no end to our anxious expectation of Your advent?
Buffeted by waves of illusion and delusion,

we have lost all the sweet fragrant pollen of mind.
We lie strewn like fallen flowers.
We know not what the future holds.
We have wasted our time running after mirages.
We have pursued the ephemeral.

Catch hold of my hand and turn me around.
Don't allow me to be misguided by the spell of delusion.

_____________________________________________

Lord, will You ever come within our easy reach?
How long shall we yearn for You?
Will our anxious expectation know no end?

Buffeted by spells of illusion and delusion
we have lost the sweet fragrant pollen of mind.

We lie strewn like fallen flowers.
We know not what the future holds.
We have wasted our time running after mirages.
We have pursued the ephemeral.

Catch hold of my head/(hand?) and turn me round.
Don't allow me to succumb to delusion.