These Freedoms

Chaitanya Mahaprabhu

The freedoms of men are mere gilded chains
A set of garbs to fool children by their pains.

There is a servitude I long for
A feeble offering to my Master afar.

Him unseen and Her unknown
Is the only destination my aspiration has known.

My heart is bound and my cells chained
To Them who make whole all that is maimed.

My song is silent and my heart mute
Awaiting the Song-Player and His flute.

All that I hear and constantly see
Are remembrances of Him and his mystery.

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