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
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 ...
Listen, My Beautiful One
'Listen, my beautiful one ', says Shri Hari, 'I won't ever leave your place!
There's no girl like you at all with whose garland of flowers
Would I be tied!
'Listen, my beautiful one!' says Shri Hari, 'I won't ever leave your place!'
I am the lord with garland of creepers and you, a delicate flower vine,
I will water you with the nectar of my eyes,
With love will I enclose you and tend you
Holding you in my strong arms!