Beyond the mind lies the ecstasy of pure bhakti

How deeper than deep he is

How deeper than deep he is

My pain, my awareness owe their existence

to his fathomless touch

How deeper than deep he is

.

He brings enchantments to my eyes,

plucks my heart’s veena-strings

He brings enchantments to my eyes,

plucks my heart’s veena-strings

He awakens such rhythms

of joy, pleasure, sorrow, delight

How deeper than deep he is

.

How magical the robe he weaves

from gold, silver, green, blue

His feet stretch out from beneath it

When I touch them I swoon with rapture

How magical the robe he weaves

from gold, silver, green, blue

His feet stretch out from beneath it

When I touch them I swoon with rapture

.

Many days, many ages pass

as he secretly charms my soul

Many days, many ages pass

as he secretly charms my soul

Many are the ravishing names and identities

he constantly showers

How deeper than deep he is

How deeper than deep he is

.

(from ‘Gitanjali’ by Rabrindranth Tagore, translation by William Radice)

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