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હૃદયપ્રદીપ
And until he sees in its glorious brilliance His own true nature, his spiritual essence. That wealth is an evil to a holy soul, Which is to many, an essential life-goal; A woman's gestures of love and loyalty Are like those of a corpse lifeless and filthy; All worldly objects of sense satiation Are just as venomous as deadly poison, To him who has had the divine experience Of dissolving himself in his soul-substance. What is the need to focus attention On others wrongs, without any reason? How can others be your responsibility? How can their deeds cause you anxiety? What anyone else does is none of your business, Why this disgust then, why this distress? O childlike being! Shun everything else And fulfil your duty to your own 'self'. What good is that deed, that activity Which generates only a grain of gaiety, And causes a bond unbreakable and endless, Instead, with worldly unhappiness,
And subjects a being to agony of mind To go through a gruelling and gradual grind; Tell me, which fool, which mindless being, Spends all his life in such a doing.
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Such finer fruits which ascetics desire
And
after an entire lifetime
acquire;
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