Bengali tata sumo in the paddy field
Going to a house in a sweet water town
Ghosts try to attack taking the forms of cats
And guru maharaja appeared right at the stroke of midnight
Going out preaching on the pandal scene
To all the big cities and villages in between
Only a swami knows what that’s like
And that guru maharaja appeared right at the stroke of midnight
Leis of petals sway when the dancing gets hot
Kirtan performers wonder if it ever stops
Devotees at the thakura vari are feeling so right
Celebrating guru maharaja’s appearance right at the stroke of midnight
The gecko and I offered respect to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa and spun into the southland from there to a land in which the scent of wild roses and the left hand of a dead man can turn milk to cream. There are rainbows and bright stars there too. The clouds are all cumulus they look like cotton candy. Peddler’s wheels sparkle with day-glow colors and everyone smiles as they pass each other on the road. The mountain men and hikers get along just fine. The gecko and I continue past the sufferers on the shore who are building bon fires to keep warm into the night. The tour goes through and they don’t mind if a couple of has-beens join in at the end of the pace line. Pretty soon the gecko takes leave and I continue back the long and winding to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa where I fold my palms and the kalarupa chases me to the sandhya who is glad to see me on time.
Ah yes the touch that kills all material desires red embroidery and creamy Chinese silk so beautiful like an ocean of milk Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari engage in their pastimes of the night with so much happiness it can’t be calculated.