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Of all the people we are the happiest lot,
Without any of the world’s blot.
Heavens on us bounties shower,
And leave open boundless bower.
The cosmic mover, the sun does not a discrimination make;
The breeze blows to us as pleasant as to the crown’s stake;
The Ganges quenches and purifies as any other soul’s dust;
Why do people for bodily affliction, at us frown with disgust?
Never do we let our minds go tainted,
Never do we play deceit with a face painted,
Never do we spoil our hours conspiring,
Never do we deviate from His praise, perspiring.
The endless sky our roof plays,
Few clothes our wardrobe makes,
We have nothing yet no wants,
All our necessities without fuss He grants.
Those that for our appearance us hate,
Forget that the mortal vest that they get,
Is a transient housing of a part of Him,
That lives in all alike and merges in Him. |
