She came from between the delicate petals
Of the queenliest flower
But she possesses all the knowledge,
The angel of the books
The purest colours adorn the mystic beauty
With the king of metals glimmering from her
Her feeble hands touch the veena ever so gently
Playing the most beautiful tunes
Maa, the devi of the granths
Maa, the hero of my prayers
The serene white feathers of the graceful bird
are stroked by your very hand
The dance of the king of birds is watched
by your very eyes
Maa, the devi with the mala in your hand
The one who knows what my heart wants
I await your presence and thank you for all the times you came
And will forever doing so
Like the moon wanting to reach the stars
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem