Kuinjavanete guinjaranete: Difference between revisions

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In the arbor with their buzzing sound,
In the garden with their humming,
What do the honeybees want to say?
Honeybees, which words would they speak?
They want to speak about God, they do.
They want to speak, oh yes, they want to speak.
Playing on the strings of heart's harp—
Mystics, what yearnings do they want heard?


For such ideation, there is no language.
On the strings of heart's lute,
For such longing, as there is no capacity to express
The mystics, what ache would they make heard?
All the divine majesty and all the divine glory,
So they want to lie prostrate at Your feet.


Pure or impure, every lotus
As many feelings as have been, so much speech is not;
Wants to be offered as oblation to You.
As many yearnings as have been, so much skill is not.
All greatness and all glory,
At Your feet, prostrate they want to be!
 
Stainless or blemished, every lotus
Wants to be in a vase offered to Thee.
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