A Bhikshu at the door, Om Moni Padme Om! A lute-player without a scroll; A boatswain without his toll. My barque is laden with life, Bound for the shore of light; Let it drift with the stream To its destination of dream! A Bhikshu at the door, Om Moni Padme Om! A singer that sings of sorrow; Whose night knows no tomorrow; My song finds its source In its moonless immensity Bound with the girdle of sleep; Love's Nirvana, the only pearl in its deep. Bhikshu, singer, sorrower, I see the face of thy star; Om Moni Padme Om! A barque of life with love, O, guide thou from above, With thy star-music's silver tone, Om Momi Padme Om! |