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A Prayer

Saturday, 13 November 2010 / Published in Poetry / 1,948 views

Giribaradhari das:

A king I was, feeling proud.
Subjects and land,
So much to reign.
Taking that gold, that night with stealth.
Killing my mother,
Thus grew my wealth.
Oh my Lord, I promise,
I’ll never do it again.

A sailor I was, strong and wild,
Full fourteen years,
No longer a child.
Lashings and whippings, my dogs, my slaves,
Thoughts for no one,
Then a watery grave.
Oh my Lord, I promise
I’ll never ever, do it again.

Then fragrant perfumes, milk white skin.
The envy of all,
No sense of shame.
A girl I was, then lover then bride.
Then prince, then pauper.
Now, no place to hide.
Oh, my dear Lord, I promise,
I’ll never, ever, do it again.

My thoughts, my feelings, my visions abound,
With lions and horses,
All running around,
Snarling, fiercely fighting ,
Hot white sands,
Attacking, defending,
In distant, far off lands.
Oh my dear Lord, I promise I’ll never, never do it again.

Hundreds of soldiers, I hear them yell.
Wicked encounters to the depths of hell.
Now, here I am, inside this womb,
Hating each second,
Feeling faint I swoon.
Oh my dear, dear Lord, I promise,
I’ll never, ever do it again.

I beg You now, with humble plea,
Let me not forget Your mercy ‘pon me
Another life of pleasure, sorrow and pain.
Oh, my dear Lord Krsna,
I never want to forget You,
Ever again.

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