Poem 121

In plain words

When you would rejoice, thinking, ‘He has drawn us near,’ at once He parts from you and brings you sorrow; Sai's sport is to make you weep, they say; and in between He makes you laugh until your belly shakes. Should you swell with joy that He is praising you, that very moment He is sure to make fun of you. When you think, ‘He has given His assurance, so we shall be at ease,’ there is no fathoming the troubles you go through; He will not let you turn back, and He will not let you go on; He fills the mind with longing and churns it. This little Sai, whose form is Consciousness itself: how can you come to know Him here on earth?