1
Dear crow, after obesance fallat the Beloved's feet-Message I give thee, dont't forget,in transit, I entreat,I beg in God,s name secretlymy message do repeat;My words correctly and repeat;convey just as say.
2
Come flying my dear crow, bring newsback from the other side;Sir down, a note of union strike,and all in me confide...My loved-ones that seem to abideso far away, bring here.
3
From loved-ones, there in foreign lands bring news, and not delay-Thy feathers I will cover witha wealth of gold-array-Circle above his house, conveymy message to my love.
4
Oh! crow, I'll tear my heart from thismy breast with my own hands;You peck at it before my love,that dwells in foreign lands;May be he says; "there are no friendsthat dare such sacrifice."
5
The crow is back, and sitting nowOn yonder twig, quite near;-He came last night, and greetings sweetBrought from my precious dear-Stop spinning sisters! that I hearAll what Beloved said.-
6
The crow brought happy news for me,From the Beloved mine;My wishes all have been fulfilled,No more I need repine-My life is joy, powers divineHave fruitful made my prayers.
7
A dog, a crow from loved-ones's sideWill so delight mine eyes!On them my 'Self' I'll sacrificeA hundred times a day.
8
Not make that crow a messengerThat doth for carrion search!Will he deliver messagesOr heed his stomch's urge?What message carry will that scourgeWhose speech is: "Caw, caw, caw?"
II
9
In longing for my loved-ones IDo rove around all day;Hoping he'll raise his eyes, and maySweet recognition grant.
10
My comfort all is from those eyes,That smilingly they raise;Loved-one's smiles have relieved my woeAnd all my sorrow flies...World thinks their emaciation liesIn hunger, but from sorrow' tis.
11
At mid-night Eastern Yogis closedTheir house...I failed to hearTheir soul-converse, when gradullyDawn's pale lights did appear.-Strange yogis, whose detachment hereE'en by compassion is not marred.
12
On high-way they already are,To East, far East they roam-And they have sacrificeed this home To build the future one.
13
The East has killed me...none I findTo whom I can complain;Advising world, and guiding it,I lost myself my mind-I made love to higher kindWho were not likes of mine.
14
You comfort seek, and call yourself'Sami', yet are not trained;At journey's start exhausted grew,And more and more complained-You had not even found a guide,...To be consummate, so you feigned-Your soul should be to 'Sami' chainedWith 'Him' identified for aye.
15
To keep your greedy body fit,You beg for grains pretentiously,May be that you your ears have slitPalate to lease with luxuries.
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