The Shift in Time, The Fair Morning Changing into The Golden Dawn
A fine morning changing into the dawn time and continuing
With Hari Om, Hari Om, Hari, Hari,
Hari Om, Hari Om, Hari, Hari,
Om Tat Sat
With the rosary count or the prayer in whispers.
A dawn beginning with the golden rays of the sun shining,
The lotus petals opening
With the dew drops,
Pink, white and rarely blue,
The sparrows chirping
In the Vedic hermitage.
The hymns from the Vedas echoing
And they chanting mantras
And the choric songs
Engulfing all around
After a bath into the holy river waters.
The mind crystal,
The heart lies pure
And full of prayers,
Everything but Hari-Hari,
Hari Om, Hari Om,
Om, Om, Om on the lips.
They taking a bath in the river,
Doing surya namaskar,
Offering a potful of water
And whispering mantras
With the quivering lips.
The sun rising and shining over,
The red disc glistening with golden rays
And the golden orioles singing
And the saints the hymns from the Vedas
Keeping spellbound with the pitches of sacred and sacrosanct choric notes.
Hari Om, Hari Om, Hari Hari, Om Om,
Hari Om, Tat Sat,
What in my karma-dharma,
Everything but His,
What else in my hands?
The red sun glowing, the ripple of the morning
Yet to beak into bird sounds,
The world awaking from
And to gather speed and momentum
And the scenes and sight shifting.
The sadhus and sanyasins after a holy dip
Into the river
Doing their surya namaskar,
The golden orioles singing notes somewhere
And the psalms and hymns resounding from the Vedic hermitage.
The shift in time, the fair and fine morning
Full of solitude and serenade
Breaking forth into bird ripples of music,
Sounding breaking forth silence,
The world arising from
The red and glowing sun yet to glisten brighter
And golden
Sending forth the sunbeams,
The sadhus and sanyasins doing their surya namaskar
And the Vedic hermitage full of choric recitation.
Hari Om, Hari Om,
Hari Om, Hari Om, Hari Hari,
Hari Om, Hari Om,
Hari Om, Tat, Sat,
Going with Hari in mind, heart and soul, whispering and going. |
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