"gopal" poems - Hello Poetry

Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor: what should I do? I've sat near the holy ones, and I've lost shame before the people. I've torn my scarf into shreds; I'm all wrapped up in a blanket. I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. The churner of the milk churned with great love. When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: now with love He takes me across to the further shore. ~~~~~~~ mere to giridhara gupaala, duusaraa na koii | jaa ke sira mora mukuTa, mero pati soii || taata, maata, bhraata, baMdhu, apanaa nahiM koii | ghaaM.Da daii, kula kii kaana, kyaa karegaa koii? saMtana Dhiga baiThi baiThi, loka laaja khoii || chunarii ke kiye Tuuka Tuuka, o.Dha liinha loii | motii muu.Nge utaara bana maalaa poii || a.Nsuvana jala siiMchi siiMchi prema beli boii | aba to beli phaila gaii, aanaMda phala hoii || duudha kii mathaniyaa, ba.De prema se biloii | maakhana jaba kaa.Dhi liyo, ghaagha piye koii || aaii maiM bhakti kaaja, jagata dekha roii | daasii miiraa.N giradhara prabhu taare aba moii || ____ Notes I am the translator of this poem, "Torn in Shreds" by Mirabai. I did not copyright it; it's in the public domain and everyone is free to help themselves to it. I simply request that it appear with my name as the translator. Johanna-Hypatia Cybeleia

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4.8k

Mirabai

Torn In Shreds

Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor: what should I do? I've sat near the holy ones, and I've lost shame before the people. I've torn my scarf into shreds; I'm all wrapped up in a blanket. I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. The churner of the milk churned with great love. When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: now with love He takes me across to the further shore. ~~~~~~~ mere to giridhara gupaala, duusaraa na koii | jaa ke sira mora mukuTa, mero pati soii || taata, maata, bhraata, baMdhu, apanaa nahiM koii | ghaaM.Da daii, kula kii kaana, kyaa karegaa koii? saMtana Dhiga baiThi baiThi, loka laaja khoii || chunarii ke kiye Tuuka Tuuka, o.Dha liinha loii | motii muu.Nge utaara bana maalaa poii || a.Nsuvana jala siiMchi siiMchi prema beli boii | aba to beli phaila gaii, aanaMda phala hoii || duudha kii mathaniyaa, ba.De prema se biloii | maakhana jaba kaa.Dhi liyo, ghaagha piye koii || aaii maiM bhakti kaaja, jagata dekha roii | daasii miiraa.N giradhara prabhu taare aba moii || ____ Notes I am the translator of this poem, "Torn in Shreds" by Mirabai. I did not copyright it; it's in the public domain and everyone is free to help themselves to it. I simply request that it appear with my name as the translator. Johanna-Hypatia Cybeleia

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Mine Is Gopal Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor: what should I do? I've sat near the holy ones, and I've lost shame before the people. I've torn my scarf into shreds; I'm all wrapped up in a blanket. I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. The churner of the milk churned with great love. When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: Now with love He takes me across to the further shore.

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3.5k

Mirabai

Mine is Gopal

Mine Is Gopal Mine is Gopal, the Mountain-Holder; there is no one else. On his head he wears the peacock-crown: He alone is my husband. Father, mother, brother, relative: I have none to call my own. I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor: what should I do? I've sat near the holy ones, and I've lost shame before the people. I've torn my scarf into shreds; I'm all wrapped up in a blanket. I took off my finery of pearls and coral, and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. With my tears, I watered the creeper of love that I planted; Now the creeper has grown spread all over, and borne the fruit of bliss. The churner of the milk churned with great love. When I took out the butter, no need to drink any buttermilk. I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept. Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder: Now with love He takes me across to the further shore.

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Gopal Check out my books www.amazon.com/author/richardratliff Met my friend Gopal at the bar where he sat Las Vegas has lots of places to sit and gamble He showed me his fifty thousand dollar hat That baseball cap had a big "S" on the front angle It didn't look expensive but it was he shared His daughter was graduating from Stanford Copyright 2013 Richard L Ratliff

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Jul 31, 2016

Jul 31, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC

richard-l-ratliff

Gopal

Gopal Check out my books www.amazon.com/author/richardratliff Met my friend Gopal at the bar where he sat Las Vegas has lots of places to sit and gamble He showed me his fifty thousand dollar hat That baseball cap had a big "S" on the front angle It didn't look expensive but it was he shared His daughter was graduating from Stanford Copyright 2013 Richard L Ratliff

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Here love blossoms Here people come running frankly Here the head bows in reverence Here Bengali is the book of poetry. Here is a fistful of hands in vows to remember the martyrs Here the Bengali's roared Such as Ekushey of Bahanna one day Woke up. The world has seen a lot of shots Didn't see the language soaked in blood February! Hyena's team is so brazen and so barbaric Kari wants to take her mother's language Salam-Barkat Rafiq-Shafiq Jabbar The vigilant guard of the mother tongue poured out the ****** of the chest. Then a Mujib at the front of the procession Sheikh Mujib is at the forefront of history Bengal and Bengali took the lead Fifty-two sixty-two - we got the demand to survive The days of seventy-nine fires have come Bangabandhu got Bengali Day of release ahead. In nineteen years, Bengalis took the form of the liberation army Twenty-one to seventy-one Mujib gave the call - at the March racecourse When he heard the shackle-breaking poem "This time the struggle is for freedom" ... The fort was built from house to house The defeated Pak army looked at him with a smirk The red-green flag flew over the open land of Bengal The people of Bangladesh chanted the slogan in unison - Joybangla! The world has never seen such a February, such a March, such a December of victory Proud Shaheed Minar with red-green flag!

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Feb 21, 2021

Feb 21, 2021 at 1:29 AM UTC

Shahjahan

The poem Written by Professor Nani Gopal Sarker

Here love blossoms Here people come running frankly Here the head bows in reverence Here Bengali is the book of poetry. Here is a fistful of hands in vows to remember the martyrs Here the Bengali's roared Such as Ekushey of Bahanna one day Woke up. The world has seen a lot of shots Didn't see the language soaked in blood February! Hyena's team is so brazen and so barbaric Kari wants to take her mother's language Salam-Barkat Rafiq-Shafiq Jabbar The vigilant guard of the mother tongue poured out the ****** of the chest. Then a Mujib at the front of the procession Sheikh Mujib is at the forefront of history Bengal and Bengali took the lead Fifty-two sixty-two - we got the demand to survive The days of seventy-nine fires have come Bangabandhu got Bengali Day of release ahead. In nineteen years, Bengalis took the form of the liberation army Twenty-one to seventy-one Mujib gave the call - at the March racecourse When he heard the shackle-breaking poem "This time the struggle is for freedom" ... The fort was built from house to house The defeated Pak army looked at him with a smirk The red-green flag flew over the open land of Bengal The people of Bangladesh chanted the slogan in unison - Joybangla! The world has never seen such a February, such a March, such a December of victory Proud Shaheed Minar with red-green flag!

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