| |
[Dec. 4th, 2009|02:08 pm] |
Calcutta City never looked so pretty
As that day in 1896
Soft September skies and cool gaslights
Horse-drawn hackneys travelled quick
In a mud-walled shack beneath a leaning jack friut tree
You took your birth
No common boy who would play with toys
One astrologer saw your worth
At seventy he`ll cross the sea
And plant a barrel soil
The seed of bhakti so Krishna shakti
Can inundate the world
Srila Prabhupada we didn`t know you When would you come at last?
In Maya`s clutches without so much
As promise from our darkened past
You shone the light, took away the night
And neatly rearranged us
Hell-bound dogs turned devotee cogs
When you changed us
You kindly changed us
(Rudradeva das, 1995) |
|
|