I care not if I have to shatter all desires, or jostle through a host of sextillion lives, or undergo the throes of birth or pangs of death, or of all pains — if I can but find Thee. And I mind not if I leave a mangled heap of my fleshly form, in my struggles to reach Thee.
In exchange for all my happiness, I want Thy happiness. All elusive joys I disown for Thee. Thy joy alone is mine, alone is mine.
Tell me clearly Thou wilt surely be mine! Then, I can patiently wait a hundred thousand years, as if they were but a day.
Tell me — wilt Thou be mine?