(From the
Marathi)
Simple and uncouth is my love
Without any art or artifice it
is,
Direct like the summer sun
It shines forth to warm and tend
Your heart, your body;
Simple and untutored is my love
My inexplicable; uncomprehending
love for you.
Beyond the village green
Through the thick thorny thickets
Have I often sallied forth
In search of you, my darling
love,
And crossed and recrossed
Yonder stream times out of
number,
No human being has seen me yet
Thus wander forth stealthily,
Only the cunning moon
Caught me once in her silvern
meshes
On a purnima night
When shunning the moon-festival
I was to meet you
Beside the dark, grey hill
At the old deserted well.
But I have not yet met a heart
Dear to me, my love.