To some you say time and again, "Jao, jao...[Go,go...]."
To another, "Jao! [Go Straightaway!]"
Some people you send for, and some
you tell again and again to sit and stay.
To some you tell what observances to follow, to some you teach love,
and in some hearts you light the flame of knowledge.
You send some into yoga nidra [samadhi] for a long time,
and you keep some awake for months, day and night.
You quickly remove the suffering of some,
and in some hearts you increase the pangs of love.
You tell some about their past and some about the present.
For some you foretell a bright future.
Again and again you hail the devotees for their good deeds,
many times extolling their virtues to all.
You increase the riches of some and relieve the anguish of others;
while some find the celestial wealth of contentment.
Some have darshan of their chosen deity at your door;
some have your monkey form established in their hearts.
Once you hold someone's hand, you don't leave them.
Into some ears you pour the nectar-like sacred word.
To the repeated calls of some, you pay no attention,
but to some you give darshan even without being asked.
When some offer a variety of dishes, you are not inclined to take.
But at another's place you take coarse food with relish.
Your mysterious love and affection pours down like heavy rainfall;
the same n[love and affection] overflows as tears in the eyes of devotees.
Some take a sip of your love and weep silently,
and others, overflowing with emotion, cry aloud.
Having come close to you, a learned person may not recognize you,
but others would say you permeate each and everyone.
Some remain speechless, tasting the nectar of your love,
while some continue singing your praises without satiation.
Some become kings by your grace, and others run after you,
forgetting this world.
Some kings who come to your doorstep cannot have your darshan,
but some poor souls have your darshan without any effort.
Baba, none can comprehend your lila;
only those chosen by you can understand.
You console some and relieve the pain of others.
Looking about for the devout ones, you let them drink the nectar of your love.
You save some who are drowning in the ocean of mundane existence,
and you let many float in a flood of your tenderness.
Some you uplift, giving the support of your love
and others you bury in a pile of affection.
Some who are very dear sit in your lap,
whereas some catch a glimpse of you only with great difficulty.
Some get frustrated trying again and again to draw your attention,
but you appear as if you are not at all interested.
Some you awaken, breaking open the doors of their hearts,
and you place in their hands what lay buried inside.
Some you shake up, removing the barriers of the heart,
and you answer the questions that lie unasked in the mind.
"If you have held the hand of a strong one, there is no need of fear."
By saying so you dissipate all fright.
Glory to your abode of Compassion. Your name describes your nature and form.
Who can fathom your endless glory?
Living beings like me, lacking understanding, do not know your beginning or end.
We can only offer flowers of reverence at your feet.
In utter frustration I write this, begging your grace.
I offer fresh flowers of reverence everyday.
May I sing in praise of you and have devotees as my friends,
and may I take a dip in the river of your love every day.
May I go on getting your prasad and my worldly suffering be destroyed.
May I go on drinking the water offered at your feet and my heart be filled with celestial bliss.
I do not desire wealth, fame, or earthly love,
but that I come to your doorstep for your darshan again and again.
May my tongue take God's name and my mind remain free of desires,
and may the radiance emanating from the nails of your feet enlighten my heart.
May my faith and devotion be the cradle in which your image enjoys swinging,
and may my thoughts be devoted to pushing it all my life.
May I have no feeling for praise or blame
and may I regard this whole world with equal vision.
I have come to your doorstep. Please take my boat across the ocean of worldly existence.
May I set my hopes only on you and forget about this world.
[Note: Pushpanjali is an offering of flowers to Indian Gods. In Sanskrit, pushpam means "flower" and anjali means "offering with folded hands". So Pushpanjali means offering of flowers with folded hands.]