Mari Yā I Emana Nitā I Kena Nā Bhajinu

It is better that I die. I did not worship Lord Nitāi. Alas! Alas! I am worthless! What was I thinking? I had a priceless treasure in my hand, and then I lost it.

In the moon of His face glisten eyes that defeat lotus flowers, eyes that mercifully gaze at every living being. Spreading His arms, and calling out, "Please come!", He hugs the fallen souls. To everyone He gives the treasure of ecstatic spiritual love.

A garment is gracefully wrapped about his waist. His glistening hair is curly. He wears a graceful turban that charms the heart. He walks like a graceful dancer. Tears stream down His chest. He removes the three-fold sufferings the conditioned souls feel.

"Haribol!" He calls out. His body sways to the right and left. His arms rest on the shoulders of Rāmāi and Gaurīdāsa. The moon of a smile anoints His face. Lord Nitāi has set a trap of spiritual love. He is tossed to and fro by the rising waves of ecstatic love.

Lord Nitāi is an ocean of mercy. He is the fallen soul's only friend. He has plunged the whole universe into the ocean of His mercy. Only persons blinded by lust, persons tightly bound by the ropes of material desires, will not worship Lord Nitāi.