'WHERE HAVE I come from, where did you pick me up?' the baby asked its mother. She answered half crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast,- 'You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling. You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made and unmade you then. You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship I worshipped you. In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother you have lived. In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have been nursed for ages. When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered as a fragrance about it Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow in the sky before the sunrise. Heaven's first darling, twin-born with the morning light, you have floated down the stream of the world's life, and at last you have stranded on my heart. As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong to all have become mine. For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What magic has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of mine?'
I FEEL THAT all the stars shine in me. The world breaks into my life like a flood. The flowers blossom in my body. All the youthfulness of land and water smokes like an incense in my heart; and the breath of all things plays on my thoughts as on a flute. II When the world sleeps I come to your door. The stars are silent, and I am afraid to sing. I wait and watch, till your shadow passes by the balcony of night and I return with a full heart. Then in the morning I sing by the roadside; The flowers in the hedge give me answer and the morning air listens, The travellers suddenly stop and look in my face, thinking I have called them by their names. III Keep me at your door ever attending to your wishes, and let me go about in your Kingdom accepting your call. Let me not sink and disappear in the depth of langour. Let not my life be worn out to tatters by penury of waste. Let not those doubts encompass me,-the dust of distractions. Let me not pursue many paths to gather many things. Let me not bend my heart to the yoke of the many. Let me hold my head high in the courage and pride of being your servant.
