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{{#seo: | {{#seo: | ||
|keywords=Prabhat Samgiita,Prabhata Samgiita,Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar,Anandamurti,Ananda Marga,Contemplation | |keywords=Prabhat Samgiita,Prabhata Samgiita,Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar,Anandamurti,Ananda Marga,Contemplation | ||
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</poem> | </poem> | ||
| <poem> | | <poem> | ||
You had been front and center, but You hid behind a screen; | |||
Did You go off and lose sight of me? | |||
with | Such is Your Cosmic Game, a sport with the heart! | ||
Tender One, why did You become severe? | |||
Inside the flower bud You had been in shape of spring; | |||
With anguish about thunderbolts, You became a ghastly heat. | |||
pollen | Upon lightning's thunderclap, affection went a-sailing, | ||
The pollen having become stonelike, unfeeling. | |||
smile | Now Your particulars I have conceived; | ||
Staying hardhearted, it is not Your thing. | |||
Once more You'll be tender, You will be full of honey; | |||
You will smile at heart's core with melody and beat. | |||
</poem> | </poem> | ||
|} | |} |