śrīśāradādevyaṣṭakam

Eight verses to Sarada Devi, and the first is a list of everything the poet is not asking for: not abundance, not a long life since life is not permanent anyway, not beauty, not merit, not fame, not friends — nor, on the other side, wrongdoing or wretchedness or even heaven. Only that my mind may rest at Sarada's feet. The second verse is the one that dates the piece and places it, asking that she be melting with compassion in one's own country and in a foreign one alike, an equal ordainer to the high and the very low, a refuge to creatures on water and on land. The third asks not for a gift but for the capacity to keep asking — make me able, being pleased, to go on worshipping your feet and repeating your name as I do now.