Oh! Thou, the Juice of Fruit
That the Tree of Grace bore,
The sugarcane, honey, ambrosia and my eye!
The Object that gives
All objects rare!
The Perfection that knows
No separation from compassion!
Thou, the Life that is holy!
Becoming the thought within thought,
Ordaining time and space
And adding tattvas to it,
Thou make all life dance.
Oh! Being Holy, listen to my prayer meek!