Come, pray, come, O Lord of mine;
I await Thee, I long and pine.
Oh come to my mansion, come, I pray,
I stand with eyes glued on thy way.
I’ll shed with the coming of the morn
All fineries that now me adorn.
On the path of life, forlorn I stand,
For Satguru to come and hold my hand.
I hold a goblet of love for thee;
Oh come, my Master, hearken to me.
The Saint is my life, my soul is he;
He pervades within, he dwells in me.
In my every pore does he reside,
As does rain in the clouds abide.
My soul is attuned to name divine;
Oh come, pray come, dear Lord of mine.
Mira is the Lord’s beloved now,
And, O Lord, her only love art Thou.
Mighty Lord, to Mira in Thy grace
Hasten to grant a glimpse of Thy face.
My attention in Nij Nam does stay;
Come, dear Lord of mine, oh come, I pray.
Come, I beseech Thee, O Lord of mine;
Come, I await Thee, I long and pine.
Mira Bai, The Divine Lover