SAI GEETHA - TO HERSELF
Come, oh Master, hear my bell calling You
Each day I am eagerly waiting for the hour
To place my flower—offer around Your halo
And sniffle: "Sai-Ram, Sai-Ram, Sai-Ram!"
Known to You as my soul's "Santhosham!"
To feel the pat of Your hand as a loving care;
Your hand, feeding me the fruits, as manna from heaven.
Though I am an earthly creation,
I am different from the human perfection.
I’m trained to kneel at Your Lotus Feet,
To bow my head in humble reverence.
They feed me, they bathe me, they tease me,
But it's the form alone that tastes and feels it all
I see not the shape of You as they do,
Only find all I am within, in THAT of You.
I understand not Your speeches of wisdom,
But their sound reverberates through my being.
For in the Eternal Source of Sound,
The Universal language of Love prevails,
So well understood by man and beast.
Still I have my moods of mockery,
When missing You, too long to the outer eyes,
Or being chained in my freedom, to run out to You;
Then, oh my Master, before Your Glorious Appearance
I droop, my trunk refuses to hold at the garland.
You whisper my name, melodiously, assuring;
And, yielding to the tenderness of Your attention
I lift up the garland in worship to You.
For ages in the past our souls understood;
And as now, you are my Beloved Master.
In ages to come, in form and in spirit,
I shall remain Your devoted servant.
To You I bow down, again and again,
Forever saying: "Sai-Ram, Sai-Ram, Pranam!”
