Narsinh Mehta (Gujarati:નરસિંહ મહેતા)also known as Narsi Mehta or Narsi Bhagat was a poet-saint of Gujarat, India, and a member of the Nagar Brahmins community, notable as a bhakta, an exponent of Vaishnava poetry. He is especially revered in Gujarati literature, where he is acclaimed as its Adi Kavi (Sanskrit for "first among poets"). His bhajan, Vaishnav Jan To is Mahatma Gandhi's favorite and has become synonymous to him.
Narsinh Mehta was born in the ancient town of Talaja and then shifted to Jirndurg now known as Junagadh in the District of Saurashtra, in Vaishnava Brahmin community. He lost his mother and his father when he was 5 years old. ... more »
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Narsinh Mehta Poems
Vaishnav Jan to
Speak only as godlike of the man who feels another's pain Who shares another's sorrow and pride does disdain
Cold, cold is my bed in winter!
Cold, cold is my bed in winter!But for my Lord, who will embrace me passionately? Cold, cold is my bed in winter!
Always Up To Some Prank
Always up to some prank, this mischievous little Govindji over there It's always I who has to suffer! As this little cowherd foolishly totters, the girl becomes fervid! Always up to some prank, this mischievous little Govindji over there
'Ananta' is the name of my infallible me...
'Ananta' is the name of my infallible medicine, Preferred only by the few fortunate ones! If we stay near the Vaishanava, our reliable 'vaid', The god of death won't dare close upon us!
Cover me with a blanket O Kanha,
Cover me with a blanket O Kanha, my chunri is all drenched! Hold me close O Kanha; I am bare and shivering!
Fair one, in the middle of the night
Fair one, in the middle of the night, How your jingling anklets chime! You have woken up the whole town With melodious jingling of your anklets!
Awake O Jadava
Awake O Jadava, O Krishna the cowherd! Who will take the cows to graze? When hundreds of cowherds come thronging Who will be their leader?
The arrow of desire has pierced my heart...
The arrow of desire has pierced my heart! I kept awake whole night, friend, weeping miserably!
Wayward Progeny Of A Lewd Whore
Wayward progeny of a lewd whore, What teaching will bring you to your senses? Blind teacher and on the top of that, a deaf disciple, How on earth can they grasp the knowledge ofbr ahman?
Don’t untie the threads of my choli
Don’t untie the threads of my choli, my love The fruits of my breasts are not good enough for you!
Look, Who Is Roving In The Sky!
Look, who is roving in the sky! I am he, I am he, the echoing word replies! At the feet of the dark one, I wish to die For simply matchless is my beloved Krishna!
Has your heart turned to stone, love?
Has your heart turned to stone, love? The breast-fruits can’t be gifted to anyone just like that! For by being close to the heart they give pleasure; They give pain if they are to go away.
Kanji is drenched in saffron
Kanji is drenched in saffron, the damsel drenched in deep orange! Their eyes drenched with love, they wait at the doors of garden! Who shall we say is more beautiful? The lord if Vraj or his lover? When we gaze at the best among men-both are equally priceless pearls!
O today it’s Diwali!
O today it’s Diwali! O it’s the Festival of Lights for me! For the Lord with garland of wild flowers, at last, has come to me! He invites me and soothes the searing desolation of so many days! O today it’s Diwali! O it’s the Festival of Lights for me!
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Vaishnav Jan to
Speak only as godlike of the man who feels another's pain
Who shares another's sorrow and pride does disdain
Who regards himself lowliest of the low
Speaks not a word of evil against anyone
Blessed is the mother who gave birth to such a son
Who looks upon everyone as his equal,
Lust he has renounced
Who honors women like he honors his mother
Whose tongue knows not the taste of falsehood
Nor covets another's worldly goods
Who longs not for worldly wealth (or fame)
For he treads the path of renunciation
Ever on his lips is Ram's holy name ...