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11/22/2009 2:40:51 AM
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Mother, the moon I want as my toy. I will roll on the floor, Not come to your lap, Nor have my hair-braid combed. No longer will I be your child I will only be Nand baba's boy. Listen son, come to me There's a secret from bal we can hide. Hiding her smile, Yasoda said, I'll give you a brand new bride. Quick then, Mother, I swear by you A wedding is what I'd like. Sant Surdas
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