Jump to navigation Jump to search
- Were my whole body festooned with eyes, I would gaze at my Master with untiring zeal
O, how I wish that every pore of my body would turn into a million eyes— Then, as some closed to blink, others would open to see!
But even then my thirst to see him Might remain unquenched. What else am I to do?
To me, O Bahu, a glimpse of my Master Is worth millions of pilgrimages to the holy Kaaba