The unerring messengers of Your fragrance earthy;
This slave now holds in her hands blessed,
Even as my heart leaps in joy at Your behest!
The world may call them unworthy
For they now appear variably withered!
But oh! They were on my sweet Sarathy smothered:
Does the damned world know that few are as fortunate and worthy?
The roses that are now half-dead,
Hide the scent of my Lord so unmistakable!
In the yellow flowers that are now black instead,
i feel the force of Your perspiration so recognizable!
In the white flowers that You once adorned with grace:
Wearing them, i rejoice in the warmth of Your embrace!
And o Lord! By the leaves of tulasi betwixt strung,
i taste the dust of Your Holy Feet in my tongue!!
There aren't words to describe Your love,
Or Dearest Krishna! The benovelant boons You bestow!
O Merciful Lord who enchants with Your smile so serene:
Let me please be a lotus for Your beautiful Feet!!
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