Unhindered by the limits of the language,
Unlettered poet, ignorant of script,
And alphabet, was this medieval sage,
But he his date with his destiny kept.
The language was his maid, meter slave,
And metaphors and similes balls of clay,
He kneaded them and wondrous outlines gave,
And on posterity holds ascetic sway.
To him ‘Vyogi’, Thakur** pay homage;
And Arjun Dev ji* followed his mystique.
His all- pervading shadow on this age,
I find in whatever poetic works, I pick.
Extractor of great song from worldly noise.
I wish, I had your felicity and poise.