Tho’ I wait days, months, years
For the moment when
My worthless eyes rest upon
Your divine face,
What will it matter?
For thou has given me shelter;
Thou has led me from
the darkest regions of nescience
To surrender to the enchanting Lord.
When will flowers of my devotion bloom
And be worthy to place
As an offering before thee?
I prepare for thy coming,
Chanting the holy name.
Ridding my mind of adulterated waste,
With zealous heart I shall say the name
Till it captivates my wandering consciousness.
In the silence of the temple I sit and chant,
Yearning for the sight of your holy face,
My only solace the name.