Slaves of Love and Delight


For how long can meditation bring peace to the self,
a self born of nectar and avaricious in its pursuit.
Indulgent and wanton, the soul craves ambrosia,
a craving which yoga can curb for a while.
See the futility of all forms of self quietitude and control,
as the rising tide of pleasure-absolute bursts their banks of containment.
Pleasure-Himself rising like the vernal moon,
honey laden, is beckoning us, drawing us with invinsible charm.
Slaves of love and delight, the fulfilment of your being is not here in temporal landscapes of glimmer and misfortune.
Your compulsion for immoderation will endure beyond all religion,
restlessness for nectar is your inner constitution.
He Himself, the origin is beatitude, and the soul a timeless seeker.
The thirst is endless and the source infinite, in union the pleasure absolute.
So abandon all forms of religion and surrender to Him,
for nothing can contain you and there is nothing left to fear

'Raso vai sah rasam hy evayam labdhvanandi bhavati'

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