Divine Shrine Vavroovahana Patra
On the shrine ye stand with a flute in the afternoon, with an innocent heart,
with a garland of blossoms I pray for the boon.
Oh, loving dear, I be mentally clear, serene and pure to get your bliss;
In the morn and eve, in dawn and duels I come and go cherish a little peace.
The shrine is pure with the aroma of flower.
The abode illuminates with the fine;
Vibrates in eve's prayer.
Perfumed with sandal's glamorous odour;
The devotees reach with light to adore.
I come to thee with fragrant flower;
How pleasantly you are desirous and fair.
To-day, returning back with empty hand from your bosom;
Tomorrow, I would not be back, receiving the garland of bliss that blossom.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
Added by Poetry Lover
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