Herethe poet is a woman who goes with other women to fetch water from the village well. Others go away she lingers. The Lover comes as a thirsty traveller. she offers him water. As he drinks, the whole atmosphere is transformed and uplifted. The poet’s little act of charity and devotion is rewarded with divine bliss.
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Beautiful is thy wristlet, decked with starry gems;; but thysword, O lord f thunder, is wrought with uttermost beauty, terrible to behod or to think of.
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From now I leave off all petty decorations, lord of my heart, no more shall there be for me waiting and weeping in corners, no more coyness and sweetness of demeanour. Thou hast given me thy sword for adornment. No more doll’s decorations for me!
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God is presented here as the king for whom the villagers waited late into the night. Finally when He did come, they had closed the doors and retired. They heard knocks at thier doors and the roar of chariot, but dismissed them as wind and thunder
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But how great my surprise when at the day’s end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little grain of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly wept and wished that I had had the heart to give thee my all.
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Many maestros sing to God the gret King in his Kingdom, but attracted by the poet’s humble song. he comes down to his cottage and offers im a flower as a prize. God loves the humble and comes to them.
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People are too busy to worship God or to appreciate His glory manifested in nature. The poet and companions set out on the journey, neither resting nor stopping nor caring for nature’s beauty. As the heat of the sun increased, the poet lay down to rest. His companions mocked him and moved on. He slept and woke up and saw the Divine standing before him Not our wilful effort but total surrender to His will is the way to God – realisation.
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The Divine Lover is delayed in coming.. The poet is wearied; he is afraid he would be asleep when the lover comes He does not want to be awakened by the attractions and delights of the world, but only by the touch of the Divine Lover. The poet anticipates the bliss of seeing God face to face.
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