O Krishna, Lord of Hindustan, I sorrowed by the lonely Jumna river, where Thy flute‐notes thrilled the air and led lost calves to their divine home. O Lotus of Love, musing on the sad absence of Thy delusion‐dispelling eyes, I saw Thine invisible Spirit take form, frozen by my devotion’s frost.
Thy divine body of sky‐blue light walked with feet of eternity on the banks of my mind, planting there the lasting footprints of divine realization. I am one of those lost calves which followed Thy flower‐footprints on the shoals of time. Listening to the melody of Thy flute of wisdom, I now follow the middle path of calm activity by which Thou hast led many through the portals of their dark past into the Eternal Light.
Since all souls belong to Thy fold, whether we move forward, are sidetracked, or are hemmed in, unmoving, in the fogs of disbelief, O Divine Christ‐na, lead us back to Thy enfolding shed of everlasting freedom. O Krishna, Thou reignest supreme on the heart‐throne of all those who know Thy love.