Give Me My Beloved
Give me my Beloved, the cup of life
In which I may colour my heart,
And my eye becomes clear to solve the riddle of riddles.
On my way to the Beloved, every footstep jingles with happiness
The bells calling for the night’s halt have no meaning
Nor the temptation of the resting place.
God is present. Look! Here is the Holy Light!
Neither the whirlpool bars the lover’s way
Nor the torrent, nor the shore.
Why, O heart, are you vainly wandering
Round the desert and the wood
The queen of beauty resides in your own eyes.
Wherever I look, I find nothing else but the Holy Presence.
Then, O Goya, where can I go,
If I leave the world and its trappings?
Source : The Pilgrims Way : Diwan of Bhai Nand Lal Goya - Poet Laureate by BPL Bedi.