64 (how hard it is to)

I.117. sain se lagan kathin hai, bhai

 

HOW HARD IT is to meet my Lord!

The rain-bird wails in thirst for the rain: almost she dies of her longing, yet she would have none other water than the rain.

Drawn by the love of music, the deer moves forward: she dies as she listens to the music, yet she shrinks not in fear.

The widowed wife sits by the body of her dead husband: she is not afraid of the fire.

Put away all fear for this poor body.

 

 

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Rendition

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