Murari Dhara
.
by Madhavendra Puri Dasa, Paris, France
MURALI
The bamboos are lucky
For in their family
Has appeared Murali
The flute of Murari.
Even though she’s hollow
Full of holes and narrow,
Who else has the fortune
To be kissed for a tune ?
The slightest melody
Flying from Murali
Has the greatest effects
On beings and objects.
By gathering above,
The clouds, out of love,
Create an umbrella
Giving shade to Krishna.
Though devoid of hearing
Stones and rocks are melting.
On dead trunks of old trees
Reappear greenish leaves.
Like statues of marble
The cows are unable
In the field to go on
Green grasses to chew on.
For people in anguish
Anxieties vanish.
In dry meditations
Yogis feel emotions.
Thinking Krishna callous
The gopis are jealous:
“ A small stem of bamboo
Everywhere goes with You !”
“ When You hold Murali
Do You not, Murari,
With Your lips have to kiss,
And biting with Your teeth ?”
.
Madhavendra Puri Dasa
.
.
