How many days have I come searching, my friend, my girl — for my
Will he not come? Will he not look at me? Liberation
Dance, girl, my doe, dance as the undivided one — dance, girl, my doe
O my Master, who gave me the happiness of bliss made perfectly full
Sat-cit-ānanda in its very form: that it is, my man, and you yourself are that
Even if he be a sinner — will he not look upon the highest things
O Teacher who is sat-cit-ānanda, in whom all excellence abounds, O you made of awareness — O my Master
How is one ever to reach them — the feet of the holy, true Guru
Sir, what you have given is bliss — and even so
To the one who drove out the fears of the round of becoming and put them away for good, and gave the highest state