Formulas of worship, control of breath,

Science, philosophy, systems varied,

Relinquishment, possession, and the like,

All these are but delusions of the mind - Love, Love - that's the one thing, the sole treasure.

In Jiva and Brahman, in man and God, In ghosts, and wraiths, and spirits, and so forth, In Devas, beasts, birds, insects, and in worms, This Prema (love) dwells in the heart of them all. Say, who else is the highest God of gods? Say, who else moves all the universe? The mother dies for her young, robber robs - Both are but the impulse of the same Love!

Beyond the ken of human speech and mind, It dwells in weal and woe; 'tis that which comes As the all-powerful, all-destroyer

Kli, and as the kindliest mother.

Disease, bereavement, pinch of poverty, Dharma, (Virtue) and its opposite Adharma, (Vice) Are but ITS worship in manifold modes; Say, what does by himself a Jiva do?

Deluded is he who happiness seeks, Lunatic he who misery wishes,

Insane he too who fondly longs for death, Immortality - vain aspiration!

For, far, however far you may travel, Mounted on the brilliant mental car, 'Tis the same ocean of the Samsar, Happiness and misery whirling on.

Listen O Vihangam, ( Bird, here addressed to the bound soul) bereft of wings, 'Tis not the way to make good your escape;

Time and again you get blows, and collapse,

Why then attempt what is impossible?

Let go your vain reliance on knowledge, Let go your prayers, offerings, and strength, For Love selfless is the only resource;- Lo, the insects teach, embracing the flame'

The base insect's blind, by beauty charmed, Thy soul is drunken with the wine of Love; O thou Lover true, cast into the fire All thy dross of self, thy mean selfishness.

Say - comes happiness e'er to a beggar? What good being object of charity?

Give away, ne'er turn to ask in return,

Should there be the wealth treasured in thy heart.

Ay, born heir to the Infinite thou art,

Within the heart is the ocean of Love, "Give", "Give away" - whoever asks return,

His ocean dwindles down to a mere drop.

From highest Brahman to the yonder worm, And to the very minutest atom,

Everywhere is the same God, the All-Love; Friend, offer mind, soul, body, at their feet.

These are His manifold forms before thee, Rejecting them, where seekest thou for God? Who loves all beings without distinction, He indeed is worshipping best his God.

THE HYMN OF CREATION.

(Rendered from Bengali) One Mass, devoid of form, name, and colour,

Timeless, devoid of time past and future,

Spaceless, voiceless, boundless, devoid of all -

Where rests hushed even speech of negation. ("Neti, Neti", "Not this, not this."

Brahman cannot be described in any positive way.) From thence, down floweth the river causal,

Wearing the form of desire radiant,

Its heaving waters angrily roaring

The constant roar, "I am", "I am".

In that ocean of desire limitless,

Appear shining waves, countless, infinite,

Oh, of what power manifold they are,