छोट छोट पैर चलत ठुमकाई,
गुरु गृह के आश्रम सब भाई,
जाके शीश झुकाई गुरुजन ते,
लिन्हि आशीष किजे लीला आई I
गुरु गृह जे गये रघुराई,
पल में विद्या गूँथ ले सब भाई,
मुस्काई त देखन वयदेही,
इठलाई संग आर, तीन जननी I
जाने हैं सब जगत में राम के गाथा,
जाने ना कोई सिया की देन,
सिया से ही राम के अक्षर होई,
जह मिथिला सह अवध संग प्रेम I
Dark was near to some but not,
And light was stepping slow,
Called in high, the stirred dusk,
In heaps of all the ardor.
Smiled love, and tangled aside,
Grinned the troubles, which after,
Dive thee to the drop,
In still of all the dither.
Myth is in the shades of day and dark,
Dread not the mind for so but long,
In the notch of words played so hard,
Be the seer in the dusk of call.
The shades of soot, in sight,
In eyes of close, or of foes,
Weaved words veiled or not,
To hide the truth but not.
Sway and sore the deep of much,
From thy words of verb of each,
And then thee fear the sense of pith,
Till the end, of the arc of sledge.
The shades of blue, insight,
In eyes of mine, and thee soul,
Weaved runes of my fair thoughts,
Of all good deed of the times.
Tale it and tell it, and stay it firm,
From all odds of the shades of soot,
Know thy words of all the troth,
To the long last of all shades.
Shines of sun upon those blues,
Like small pearls hanging in yard,
Scattered across, around my sight,
In a vineyard, in a row.
Picking-up each from the winter shine,
Slowly filling up in the barrel,
Some were covered, of the frost,
Some were up, on the climber.
Of all the happy men, around me,
Taste the good of mine chosen,
Drink and dance and merry around,
Of each blues, from each barrel.
Heading my head, towards the row,
Silently I work, on those fruits,
As this winter is not for long,
As my soul, is sure to lost.