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A Poem on the Passing of Thakur Haridas
He reasons ill who says that Vaishnavas die
When thou art living still in Sound!
The Vaishnavas die to live and living try
To spread the holy life around!
Invoking the Name of Krishna
O when will that day be mine,
When, my offenses ceasing,
The relish for the Holy Name,
Will be communicated to my heart
By the power and mercy of the Name?
Deeming myself more lowly than the blade of grass,
Summoning in my heart the quality of patience,
Offering honor to all, desiring none for myself,
When shall I taste the essence
Of the Rasa of the Name?
Wealth, following, the beautiful maid of poesy,
I shall not ask from thee for making me happy.
May Thou, O Gaura Hari, give me at every birth,
Causeless devotion to Thy Feet!
In articulating the Name of Sri Krishna,
The hairs of my body will be startled,
My voice will grow thick,
Pallor and shivering will manifest themselves,
And tears constantly overflow my eyes.
O when at Nabadwip by the bank of the celestial stream,
Guilelessly calling upon the Names of Gaura and Nityananda,
Shall I roam about—running, dancing, singing,
Giving up all thoughts, like one mad!
O when will Nityananda out of pity
Free me from the temptations of the world,
Afford me the shade of His Own Feet,
And give me access to the congregation
Of the chant of the Holy Name?
When shall I secure and gather the Rasa
Of the Name of Hari,
Be overwhelmingly intoxicated with the Rasa
of the Name,
And by touching the feet of those immersed
In the Rasa of the Name,
Be constantly plunged into the luscious Rasa
of the Name of Hari?
O when will my compassion for all fallen souls manifest itself?
And forgetting my own pleasures, with a lowly heart,
By the method of humble persuasion, this Bhaktivinode,
Will set out to preach the Divine Command!
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