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O lord, raising the tinkling in the ocean of effulgence,
You have kindled the lamp of vivacity. the idea that was
sleeping in the unspoken language that you expressed out.
When there were buds but no flowers, when there was
desideratum but no effort, when wish was there but no
earnestness, then you sounded the trumpet of love.
Originating from darkness, they started moving continuously
in the dark. in the dark forest, sitting in isolation,
you remained hidden.