Paul Smith
http://mehermelb.jimdo.com/arts/paul-smith-art-page/
http://www.meherbabatravels.com/books/authors-of-baba-contents/paul-smith-a-l/
http://www.meherbabatravels.com/books/authors-of-baba-contents/paul-smith-m-z/
Contact : amazon.com/author/smithpa
SELECTED BOOK COVERS PUBLISHED
A SELECTION OF BABA POEMS BY PAUL SMITH
OVER THE PAST 40 YEARS
MELBOURNE
Of all the beautiful places in this Dream
Melbourne is a special one it would seem.
When Godman was asked of Melbourne’s centre:
“My lovers hearts, all Melbourne’s My centre.”
Along the quiet ebbing Yarra’s banks at dusk
Lovers sigh together and still their rippling lust.
The great beauty of this garden city is renown;
Botanic Gardens rival Eden, His first home.
When through Melbourne’s countryside He drove
“All this beauty is still an illusion,” He said with love.
No better place is there to walk with You;
Down these dusty God trodden streets love grew.
Pines meet, caress, while eucalyptus sway in tune:
Even the grey walls of pollution have to swoon.
All colours, creeds and lifestyles come to stay,
Find their ‘something’ here and never go away.
The Painter knows the clarity of Melbourne’s light:
He came here in 1956 and established… Sight.
Melbourne is kind to lovers, He saw to that:
Anyone who can’t see that is blind as a bat!
The Yarra slowly ripples out to… the sea
The bay and then the ocean, flooding You to me.
THE RAIN KING
When the rain comes
You will be standing before me,
just You and the rain.
Rain embracing You
like gently falling streamers,
with all the colours
imaginable and unimaginable.
A prism of ecstasy
will mirror You,
You will whisper ‘come’
and open wide Your arms,
and I shall stumble
many times
before I reach You.
But I will reach You
and be bathed in tears
of remembrance.
And the rain?
The rain shall soar back to infinity,
when the King of the Rain comes.
‘67
AWAKENER
I have seen His hands upon the children
bathe stumps of smiling lepers
eat with the foodpoor of the Universe
converse with smiling mothers
cuddle their babies
laugh.
I have seen His sandaled feet
move rapidly across a courtyard
instigating the motion of the stars
the awakening of the heart
the swoop of the birds
upon the merging sea.
I have seen His hands
His eyes
His face
speak words
that span Creation
that inflame the heart
until it is agony
to be without Him.
I have sensed His loneliness
and my loneliness
revealed itself to me.
1968
AVATARIC PORTRAIT
In His hands unfold the movements
of stars
great trek through
cosmic joke,
In His smile the distant future
past unveiling
songs of understanding
praise Perfection,
In His eyes infinite mirror
reflecting inward
contemplation
silent recognition
hidden Unity,
In His walk the nonexistent race
of manufactured
time is illusion
against the Constant
Now is still
ever everywhere,
In his feet the great magnetic
hold the universe
fill the space
never was
always ceases
to exist,
In His Silence every sound
every form contained
within the uncontained
infinite soundless Silence
continually Manifesting silence,
In His heart the beat of creation
Dance of Play
Song of Journey
spinning Web
Love throughout
cloak of illusion,
In the dust at His feet
songs of His lovers
wooing His Glance
washing His feet
singing His Song
Great Unwinding.
AT THE TOMB
And they laid the body of their Beloved
in the tomb He had ordered
to be built for Him long ago,
and so they gently lowered the body
to which they had given their lives,
given with love because of His love for them.
And He was wrapped
in the colour of their devotion,
and the tears of sorrow
the tears of gratitude
happiness,
washed his face
embraced the eyes that had held them
for so long,
for so long
He had said
that soon He would drop His body,
and now ...
And now they looked at the cold ice
enclosing Him,
Stood above Him
minds racing
or stunned,
hearts with Him
The evening sun bathed Meherabad
the rising moon kissed their bodies
with sweet tenderness of remembrance,
and many wept.
Feb ‘69
IN THE NAME OF GOD
O Compassionate Father and Merciful Mother
Creator of all Life and Sustainer of Reality
Destroyer of Illusion
Meher Baba
Ancient One, Avatar, Adam.
God in the Beyond and God in Form.
We Your servant seek Your Guidance
and wish to obey Your Command
Into Your hands we place our selves
Guide us in the Truth
not in the ways of our egos.
We wait upon Your Word
Beloved of all beloveds
Allow us to obey only You.
AFTER THIS TIME
After His dropping His body this time
perhaps there will be no weeping
or guilt for not recognizing Him,
but great peace
and joy
and brotherhood
will illuminate
the hearts of all
and we shall work
together as one
thanking Him silently in secret
corners of heart and mind.
Maybe we will sing again
the songs that flowed so naturally
the other times He came
and write poems
that sing His praises
through the Universe
that lift the hearts of all
into His,
not keep mumbling
grey dirges
of intellectual praise of ignorance.
Will we really live again?
He might be remembered physically
as He really is
(we have photography now)
not prettied up
or senselessly solemn and lifeless
like our organizations
that claim to represent Him
that fail to recognise Him
when He is again among us
doing as He did before.
And will we help kill him
as we killed His appearance
in Jerusalem
with 2000 years of selfish misinterpretation.
But it doesn’t really matter!
What concerns us
this time
is acting upon His message
(the same as those other times).
Could be we’ve bashed our heads
against the walls
for so long now
that they are about to crumble
and we’ll see the obvious
for a change.
What will He be remembered
most for?
His Silence,
His Humility,
His Humour,
His Compassion,
His spontaneity
His Love for us
or the change in Mankind?
Who will stand up
after He has left His body
and live and die for Him?
Will we remember
what He lived and said
when He was here -
“I love you more than you can
ever love yourself.” “I and
God are One.” “Love Me.”
And will we love Him
next time?
BABA’S BLUE BUS
Then there was the blue bus,
carried them with Him
journeys into now-here,
everywhere it went
causing Manifestation
blue bolt of auto-lightening
crashing through midnight
waking another dawning
and if that blue bus
could not bind the threads,
leap continents, planets, creation,
He drove it till it could,
dwelt on it with
loving care,
tuned its should-be-tired
heart,
pumped in the good juice
turned
it
over
pressed the Om-point
button,
Jammed it out
of neutral
into
First
Moved this GodAlmighty
Creation
into
gear!
CREATION’S PURPOSE
The only purpose of God’s Creation,
is to remind us of its Creator.
Each leaf that drops
tree that grows
dog that barks
frog that croaks,
Each missile that is launched
arm that is severed
knife that is stabbed
insult that is hurled,
Each sun that rises
flower that blooms
bird that sings
baby that smiles,
Each lie that is told
tree that is felled
pain that’s inflicted
city that’s bombed,
Each touch that heals
gun that kills
sight that pleases
look that hates,
Each frozen lake
each deadly snake
each obvious fake
each mournful wake,
Each orphan who wails
boat that sails
competitor who fails
judge who jails,
All, each and all and everything
and everyone and there is
no exclusion to this:
God creates and preserves
and He also destroys
His hand is behind each flutter
of life, each laugh of joy
each sigh of death.
To see Him in the rose’s beauty
or the infant’s eye
or the work of art
or the sky’s red glow
or the mountain’s peak
or the poem’s melody
is an easy thing to do.
But,
to see Him in the assassins
sword,
or the twisted corpse,
the angry eye
the obvious lie
or the senseless pain
or the polluted stream
is not so easy.
But how can we know God
and love God
and praise God
until we see God
as He really is?
GOD HAS MANIFESTED
God has manifested in
the physical presence
of Everything
and that includes
you and me and she and he
and right through to
it almost does not exist
only energy finite
from mind universal finite
even the Universe
and all the countless others
finite
having beginning and end
the circle complete
“POP”
to make space in a vacuum
for bubble to go
“POP”
now and then
the whole illusion goes
“POP”
individually collectively
altogether Everything
rounds off the circle
and starts a fresh a new
creation
“POPS”
out of
The Womb Word
becomes finite
takes all without form
and all with form
and awakens everything
to its possibility consciousness
internalizes focus intake
depth width breath of
LOVE
is Life Force
keeping check
everything is as it should be
nothing to desire
completely happy with Everything
praise The Game
is Infinite
no thing loses
you win your soul
become aware of existence
Be Careful for God
IS
Infinite Energy
has bounds
unbroken
unless
allowed misused
leads into stone state
of nothingness
but usually a helping soul
of perfection
lifts you up and into
the next dimension
where only God Is
and
JUST THE SIGHT OF
YOUR SELF AT LAST
THIS IS ME ALL ME
ME ME YET STILL I EXIST
THEN WHO AM I and
GOD SPEAKS
I AM GOD
A U M
EXISTENCE KNOWLEDGE BLISS
AND BEYOND
AND BEYOND
AND BEYOND
THE THREE WORLDS
MATTER ENERGY MIND
INTO THE
THREE STATES OF BEING GOD
THE ILLUSION GOD
CONSCIOUS GOD
THEN
GOD BEYOND CONSCIOUSNESS
BEYOND
EVEN
GOD.
FIRST MASTER
Seed of the Creator
into the womb of Own illusion
born first of human form
through
e v o l u t i o n
into man
became
HU
YOU
GOD
MAN
HUMAN
who
for the memory of God
existed
before man
for man to
see HU (GOD)
within
he had to enter himself
I N V O L U T I O N
to the depth of the Ultimate
First Master of First
only Journey
GOD
Conscious of GOD
at first at last
The Ancient One
Avatar Messiah Rasool Buddha
Ultimate Pirate
Thief of Perfect Love
Compassionate Father
knowing everything GOD
sustained seed
when
the question
who am I
Comes back
to fertilize
seed of God
so all the shadow
creation
comes
into
it Self
Knows
No Shadow
comes back
to free His own shadow
which doesn’t exist
and that’s
the Ultimate Joke
CAPTAIN OF THE SHIP
Seven thousand years ago
You came out as Zoroaster
Sun came down to You
You never rise and set.
From beyond illusion
YOU
came down
setsail from beyond
the seventh sun
shadow of the Sun
Ultimate Sun
Shine Shine
Shine again beyond Time
Shine through Time
Shine on the brow
Ancient Sailor
Ultimate Pirate
After the Sun came out
You came out as Rama
Gave meaning to the stars
Arrows of Your glance
Cutting through the sea of endless night
King of the seven seas
Ultimate Pirate
You
walk again the timeless ship
the stars
maps of voyages
inlets of conquests
each star a burning lover
each spark a longing
for You
Pirate of Love
As Krishna
You walked the deck of the loveship
Flute at the lip
Perfect wine at Your table
Dance from the shores of illusion
Out to the vessel of harmony,
Setsail
For the moon
Came out of Reality
The perfect overhead moon
Lights the lip of Love
Plays the pipe of wooing
To fill the ship
with all who wish to travel
across the seas of mind
beyond the seventh moon
past seven setting suns
through the blistering dance of time
to that bower in the land of Love
Setsail
You
Came out as Buddha
The whole illusion came out to You
Nothing came out Everything
You sat beneath the mast
Cut from the tree of light
You told the crew the rule
laid down by the beginning of time
swallow up the ocean of mind
sail through blue nothingness
through seven skies
past the end of time
Ocean of void
Dive in and swim
Swim into nothingness
Beyond Time
You stepped out
Ultimate Pirate Jesus
Nailed to the tree
Mast of Your ship
The word came out
Pierced the hearts of the hunted
Called them to the ship
Setsail
Setsail for the One
Came out to sail you away
Bound for the Garden of God
Heart of the garden perfect rose
to sail you to the garden of peace
and rest in the bed of the Flower of Love.
Fourteen hundred years ago
You came again
This time named Mohammed
The Mountain came down
Now come again
This time came
everything
down
because
You
came down
Everything
Born for the first time
as the beginning
Word
Came out
beginning Time
very latent words came out
form came out
one two of everything
mind energy form
rock mineral vegetable
insect fish bird
animal monkey man
YOU
HU
MAN
GOD
MAN
came out
ARK
Being
Imagination Energy Vessel
Creation
Came out upon the waters of illusion
Carrying the dove of love
Built of the tree of Life
Ship of Light Shimmering iridescence
Cutting the waters of Time
Flag
Seven Colours
Seven Seas of Imagination
through which You came out
First
Captain of the Ship
Ultimate Pirate
MEHER BABA.
MASTER OF INFINITE CHESS
Death and Paradise are pawns in His Play
They also in the final move are swept away.
The board is quiet, opposites motionless, waiting;
The Game is won, Your hand moves, Game begins.
You play against Yourself, there’s no other player:
There is nothing else to win except Yourself.
Loneliness is love that has not been returned,
Return Love through us back to Yourself.
Clothes, bodies, nerves, mind, each beautiful vehicle,
Like flies upon the great chalky dome of Creation.
Each star a bright burning fibre of being,
Each planet a seed of Your Imagination.
Each neverending void of space containing You,
Every atom, pebble, grain of wheat and glorious tree.
All sky so blue and green sea, every grain of sand,
Every living thing and every dead thing is You.
If all of this and so much more is Your Imagination,
How can a grain of sand imagine a neverending beach?
A pebble is a pebble because it knows no other
And God is God because He knows no other.
How then can the tiny pebble know God?
His feet walk earth’s stony road, awakening dust.
Sound the Song again, Original Sound sing out,
Don’t leave us like dust without Your Blessed tread.
When Meher Baba rose from the tomb at Meherabad,
He rose from the tomb of the mind of man into his heart.
He knocks at the door, heart resounds with His calling,
To contain His Presence the world won’t succeed.
For His Song sings out in everything in the end,
As it was in the beginning and forever beyond Time.
BURST THE BUBBLE
Baba,
burst the bubble
of this illusion
with the Word.
Send us off into
the journey
that is within
ourselves.
It’s all or nothing
now
burst the ego
with the Love
that gave birth
to the shadow
and the illusion
that we are.
Burst the bubble
of the mind
that contains
all the energy
that we put into
the form
that we believe
exists.
Take it from us.
Burst its bubble
and let there
be Nothing;
and illusion
- the shadow
seeks from where
it came.
Your Game!
SUN’S RISING
Slowly the deep orange hue on the earth’s sweet horizon
Throws out a further light into the blue: Sun’s rising!
Pink flow, the wide cloak of His great Dawn has come,
Now trains blow horns, birds praise, heart beats drum.
Magpies meet, woo like vibrating checked-flags of bliss
And forget about their prey, two insects above them kiss.
Chirping crickets bleep out waves of ‘the day has come,’
And the all of Creation wakes up to greet the only One.
That breeze now blows around my eyes a madness dance,
Never let me sleep again for I may miss another chance.
May sun forever shine and moon forever glow His face,
And may perfect happiness of God descend on this place.
If all of the Creation was to come back down to dust,
A single moment in the Master’s Presence one can trust.
May we be given soon sight that rises like the sun before
My eyes have seen the glory of the rising Song we adore.
DIVINE ALPHABET
A - is for Avatar - the first and the last
B - is for Baba - the last and the first
C - is for Creator - there is only One
D - is for Divan - the book of the Word
E - is for ego - it’s all one must lose
F - is for Father - Beyond the Beyond
G - is for Grave - the means to the Source
H - is for heaven - the halfway mark
I - is for identity - which one must lose
J - is for Judas - the essential disciple
K - is for Karma - the Law that’s in force
L - is for Love - the Force that is used
M - is for Maya - the means to the End
N - is for Nothing - after which is Everything
O - is for Om - point of departure
P - is for Perfection - the true state of all
Q - is for Question - that must be asked
R - is for Religion - that must be lost
S - is for Surrender - that must be made
T - is for trying - that must be tried
U - is for understanding - which comes with Time
V - is for Victory - of heart over mind
W - is for Word - from which it all came
X - is the mark - which we all bear
Y - is for You - the Total Undoing
Z - is for Zoroaster - the first of the last
GLANCE GHAZAL
His glance compounds in us throughout Creation,
Look to look we pass it on in silent communication.
Breaks through the watery limbo womb to light,
Lights the wick of the heart until complete distraction.
Burst through the barroom door and glanced my way,
Passed unknown from her and caused me consternation.
Looks can kill, You kissed goodbye my waiting game,
Death to myself - now You are the only destination.
That Glance sustains my soul although it’s been ages,
Passed that day in time, but, it led to recognition.
He Glanced through her, through me, I passed it on,
The thread of Light invisibly weaves the constellation.
Glanced through all of evolution to His Perfect form,
Meher, God, Glanced All into the great Involution.
His Look that hearts can’t resist is never absent,
Look into the Mirror of Love is a possible solution.
BUND GARDENS
I sit here,
here in Bund Gardens,
the cool air rushing
around the back of my neck
caressing me,
the lovers walking hand in hand,
each bench occupied,
most asleep,
some lost in troubled thoughts;
on the stone bench
next to me
an ordinary looking man
sits
lotus position
swaying from side to side,
eyes ablaze
with some kind of fire,
maybe hunger,
maybe lust,
or just maybe
love for You.
On the opposite bench
a woman lies,
asleep
sari top moved up to reveal
a beautiful brown breast,
and…there is beauty
everywhere
here,
here in Bund Gardens,
here,
here in Poona,
the birthplace of God
this time,
come again as Meher Baba.
And how often
He came here
with His men disciples,
His beloved Bund Gardens.
He often walked past this fountain
before me
two small children
wrestling in fun
and He would have grinned,
eyes screwed up in amusement,
loving the play,
the game of it all,
the innocence of each of us
and the fun in this great game
He plays so well.
And to my left
the silver lion stands,
ball of the world
under its right front foot.
And He would sit upon it
as I have done
and gesture of its ferocity
and smile
and gesture
that like the lion
He has the whole world
under His control,
so don’t worry,
for although He can be
as fierce as a lion with His lovers,
He can also be
as gentle as a lamb.
And the Bund Gardens
spread out before me,
the rotunda behind me,
with groups playing cards
away from the sun,
and He must have sat in there
with the others
and played
and explained about Love
and Himself and Creation
and what is yet to come.
And He would often walk
beside His beloved river
the Muttra,
just beyond the garden
to my left,
and the fishermen fishing
as He fished 200 years ago
and the force of the great river
rushes over the brink
in one great long flow
like His Love for us:
unceasing, always available for us
to wash our sorrows away
like the women washing their bright clothes
upon its banks today
as they must have done
when He once walked
by this river
by Bund Gardens.
And further over
my left side
is the open area,
with magicians
who are the world’s best
waiting to perform near miracles
a foot or so
before your eyes
just for a few rupees and paise,
and
strange-eyed men with birds in bags
that they claim can speak
in almost any language
for a price
but not for paise,
“rupees five or ten please”
And small trolleys
with hawkers selling
roasted corn or peanuts
and others selling coconuts,
one chop and a drink
to make the gods weep.
And further down,
down towards the great river
stands the Tree
and what a Tree it is!
What size,
what symmetry,
what a history!
It stands,
knowing so much about God,
it must be
the wisest tree in existence.
For, so many years ago,
God in human form named
Babajan
sat for many years
under this same tree
and dispensed to all and sundry
God’s Love and Power and Knowledge.
What that tree
must have heard and felt.
The back of God
has often lent upon it
as others
lean on it today
and unknowingly imbibe
God’s neverending Presence.
And Baba would often go
and look at this tree
and admire this Tree
of all trees,
and gesture:
What a tree!
You do not know
what this tree has experienced,
it is beyond your comprehension.
And He would touch it
with a friendly slap
and lay His tired back
against its skin
and begin to dispense His Love to all
and sundry
gathering
under God’s Tree.
And once,
He pointed to a spot
at the top of its trunk
and said to those gathered near:
‘The river will come up to here’
and they joked and found it hard to believe
for it would have to cover the bridge
and that was almost impossible.
And some time later
the dam burst
and the mighty river rose
to the top of the tree’s trunk
and the waters spread throughout Poona
the City of God.
And there was no fresh water
for many of the people
of this Fortunate unfortunate City.
And so the well at Baba’s house
was to become the focal point
as thousands of buckets
kept many of them alive and clean,
thousands drank of its sacred water
without knowing the worth
of its Owner
and His well did not fall
a single inch.
Ah, here I sit,
here is blessed Bund Gardens
and recall
some of the times You
graced this holy place
with Your Divine Presence,
a cool breeze brushes
the back of my neck
and I long to see You.
And beyond my back
in the open space
where stands the Tree,
the hawkers, magicians
and the men with bi-lingual birds
in sacks,
beside the small cafe
stands the pale blue
miniature theatre
about five feet high and four feet wide
all metal
with holes to view through
and the ancient miniature man
who happily,
O so happily
for a small sum
will show you
the World’s Great Comedians:
Chaplin and Keaton, Ben Blue
Laurel and Hardy too
and Charlie Chase
and the Keystone Cops
creating their mad antics on a tiny screen
about five inches square
and tiny chairs
and buckets on the stage
in case of fire,
and He also
must have viewed these greats
He,
the Greatest Mime
of them all,
the greatest Joker
must have held His sides
to contain the laughter
that would almost spill out,
and if it did
it would have engulfed
the whole of creation
and
drowned us all in Joy.
And I sit here in Bund Gardens
and light a cigarette
for a fellow appreciator
and survey His Creation,
the trees sway to His Music,
the flowers brightly wave,
lovers walk arm in arm,
families eat apples
juice running down the roses
of the children’s
happy cheeks,
and lonely people
feel not so lonely for awhile
as they sit here
and listen to the birds sing
the river roar
the rickshaws saw through the crazy traffic,
horns blast and motorcycles bleat like sheep
the sky turns blue and O Baba,
it is impossible not to thing of You, here
here in this joyful sacred place,
here in Your Bund Gardens.
Aug. 1985
Being Your slave, is far better than being any king:
to be a world-ruler without You, would be nothing.
Being Your drunkard’s far better than any sobriety,
You intoxicate me with one glance You’re shooting!
Being Your poet is far better than any Nobel Prize:
the only prize that I prize is You, “I love it”, saying.
Being Your lover is better than on the silver screen;
compared to Your beauty all film-stars are waning!
Being Your prey is better than being safe forever…
Your cruelty to me is such bliss from this I’m dying.
Being Your seeker, is like travelling to the moon…
and beyond that You are the sun, upon me shining.
Being Your beggar is better than winning a lottery:
the only lot of worth... is Your foot on me standing.
Being Your servant is like waiting on the Almighty,
Perfection is Yours... and my service is most willing.
Being Your biographer, I find I am lost for words…
You’re in this life and also beyond it You’re existing.
Being Your minstrel is to be playing into Your hands
for each song I sing of You, You are really composing.
Being dust at Your feet is far better than being gold:
if You tread on me, pure alchemy I’m then becoming!
Being You in Your other form is still beyond my form:
I hear and feel Your presence and it is overwhelming.
Being Paul, a being that You’ll ‘love until eternity’,
that the ‘same goes for me’, is all that I am saying.
“Being me, O lover, poet, slave, prey, and minstrel:
it is difficult to wait until to ‘Me’ you are coming!”
The difference between our ages is quite enormous,
You are beyond all Time while I wait for it to pass.
Let them sat what they like, I will still be Yours…
the only voice that I hear isn’t with these ears I use.
If You were to lead me down a street like a dog on
a chain, I’d consider myself... a most fortunate ass!
Being of service to You is being a slave to the finest
household in creation, receiving Your divine abuse!
Look at me, what am I without You, nothing... dust!
Dust should be thrown under Your foot, so gracious!
One fine December day call me to You wherever You
may be and I’ll come instantly to suffer Your abuse
or whatever You have in store for Your poor lover…
be it heaven or hell, for whatever You give is of use!
Use me O my Beloved, use Paul until he does die…
for Your grace is Perfect and Your ecstasy enormous.
I hear Your voice, “You have won my attention I’ll
give You that! Prepare yourself, or what is the use?”
Without You in my heart, this heart would not exist…
without You on my mind, illusory thoughts they persist.
Without You as Beloved this lover would be nowhere…
without Your face to see again, there’s no place of tryst.
If I forget You a moment, crush my neck with Your foot:
if I try to live without You… become an interventionist!
What’s the point of being Your slave… without orders?
Tell me what to do for You… even let me cease to exist.
At least a dog in Your street knows where your street is:
give me direction to Your door, or I’ll be Your extremist!
Love, is a game of ‘give and of take’, haven’t You heard?
Give some more take, I’ll take all You give, I can’t resist.
the pollution today is so extreme that I can’t see a thing:
You veil face with distance being such an obstructionist!
Recently I saw a movie, a fight between God and Satan:
Your Love is beyond tearful ideas for You are the Realist.
Is there truly any point in separation’s game You play…
when in truth You tell me it is unreal and won’t persist!
It is said there’s divine bird, flying between day and night
and it’s circling the world daily. Hey, if it really does exist
let it take this message to You… O my Perfect Beloved:
“This distance is killing me… it, and I, cannot co-exist!”
Your answer, it takes less than a day and needs no bird…
“You complain so well lover, praise in complaint, persist.
And remember this always Paul, take it wherever you go:
when lover is ready, Beloved comes; remember, I insist!”
Feb 2004 Pune.