THOU ART A glimmer of gold from the dawn on my life's shore, a dew-drop on the first white flower of autumn. Thou art a rainbow from the distant sky bending o'er the dust, a dream of the crescent moon touched with a white cloud, thou art a secret of paradise revealed by chance to the earth. Thou art my poet's vision, appearing from the days of my forgotten birth, thou art the word that is never for utterance, a freedom that comes in the form of a bondage, for thou openest the door for me to the beauty of a living light.
II. 56. dariya ki lahar dariyao hai ji THE RIVER and its waves are one surf: where is the difference between the river and its waves? When the wave rises, it is the water; and when it falls, it is the same water again. Tell me, Sir, where is the distinction? Because it has been named as wave, shall it no longer be considered as water? Within the Supreme Brahma, the worlds are being told like beads: Look upon that rosary with the eyes of wisdom.