LET ALL THE strains of joy mingle in my last song-the joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess of the grass, the joy that sets the twin brothers, life and death, dancing over the wide world, the joy that sweeps in with the tempest, shaking and waking all life with laughter, the joy that sits still with its tears on the open red lotus of pain, and the joy that throws everything it has upon the dust, and knows not a word.
II. 45. Hari ne apna ap chipaya MY LORD HIDES Himself, and my Lord wonderfully reveals Himself: My Lord has encompassed me with hardness, and my Lord has cast down my limitations. My Lord brings to me words of sorrow and words of joy, and He Himself heals their strife. I will offer my body and mind to my Lord: I will give up my life, but never can I forget my Lord!