In the midst of raging deluge of desires
who sits cozy by the fireside
within the sanctum of his/her heart
to the fiercest storms they stand steadfast

Though all around be the bloody strife
the lashing and bashing of ill-fortune
bitter and barking loud be the opposition
they let not outer turmoil to ruffle the calm within

In the deep of sorrow less state they have known
the wisdom’s crop in a sorrowing heart is sown
through dark vale of sorrow all pilgrims must pass
the wide ocean of illusion they must cross

They whose ship’s mast and anchor is Truth
whose heads wear the love’s crown
whose treasure is their heart’s contentment
their voyage is set to the sorrow less shore.
(Yayati)

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