Mirabai

(1498 - 1546 / Kudki / India)

Mirabai Poems

1. Strange Are The Decrees Of Fate 4/3/2012
2. No One Knows My Invisible Life 4/3/2012
3. I Write Of That Journey 4/3/2012
4. It's True I Went To The Market 4/3/2012
5. O I Saw Witchcraft Tonight 4/3/2012
6. Torn In Shreds 3/29/2010
7. The Heat Of Midnight Tears 4/3/2012
8. Friend, Without That Dark Raptor 4/3/2012
9. Mira Knows Why 4/3/2012
10. We Do Not 3/29/2010
11. Out In A Downpour 4/3/2012
12. Only He Knows The Bitterness Of Love 4/3/2012
13. O My Friends 4/3/2012
14. Why Mira Can'T Come Back To Her Old House 4/3/2012
15. Dark Friend, What Can I Say? 4/3/2012
16. Turn Back? 1/1/2004
17. The Saffron 1/1/2004
18. The Rainy Season 1/1/2004
19. Your Slander Is Sweet 1/1/2004
20. Go To That Impenetrable Realm 4/3/2012
21. I Danced Before My Giridhara 4/3/2012
22. Your Look Of Light 1/1/2004
23. I Am Pale With Longing For My Beloved; 4/3/2012
24. Life In The World Is Short 4/3/2012
25. Clouds 4/3/2012
26. Unbreakable 1/1/2004
27. A Limb Just Moved 4/3/2012
28. I Do Not Care About Social Norms 4/3/2012
29. The Plums Tasted 3/29/2010
30. In A Sudden 3/29/2010
31. All I Was Doing Was Breathing 4/3/2012
32. A Great Yogi 3/29/2010
33. The Dagger 1/1/2004
34. Mine Is The Lifter Of Mountains 1/1/2004
35. The Dark One Is Krishna 1/1/2004
36. Come To My Pavilion 1/1/2004
37. The Arrow Of His Glance 1/1/2004
38. That Dark Dweller In Braj 1/1/2004
39. I Send Letters 1/1/2004
40. Mine Is Gopal 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Mirabai

I Am Mad With Love

I am mad with love
And no one understands my plight.
Only the wounded
Understand the agonies of the wounded,
When the fire rages in the heart.
Only the jeweller knows the value of the jewel,
Not the one who lets it go.
In pain I wander from door to door,
But could not find a doctor.
Says Mira: Harken, my Master,
Mira's pain will subside
When Shyam comes as the doctor.



Read the full of I Am Mad With Love

The Rainy Season

The rainy season is abroad
And the skirt of my dress is wet.
You have gone off to distant lands,
And my heart finds it unbearable.
I keep sending letters to my Beloved
Asking when He will return.
Mira's Lord is the courtly Giridhara:
O Krishna, O Brother of Balram,
Grant me thy sight.

[Hata Bildir]