From MEERA to KRISHNA with LOVE....

Mine is Gopal,

the Mountain-Holder;
there is no one else.
On his head he wears the peacock-crown:
He alone is my husband.
Father, mother, brother, relative:
I have none to call my own.
I've forsaken both God, and the family's honor:
what should I do? 
I've sat near the holy ones, 
and I've lost shame before the people. 
I've torn my scarf into shreds;
I'm all wrapped up in a blanket. 
I took off my finery of pearls and coral,

and strung a garland of wildwood flowers. 

With my tears,
I watered the creeper of love that I planted;
Now the creeper has grown spread all over,
and borne the fruit of bliss.
The churner of the milk churned with great love.
When I took out the butter,
no need to drink any buttermilk.
I came for the sake of love-devotion;
seeing the world, I wept.
Mira is the maidservant of the Mountain-Holder:
Now with love
He takes me across to the further shore.

JAI SREE KRISHNA;JAI DWARAKADISH