Nothing is really mine except Krishna. O my parents, I have searched the world And found nothing worthy of love. Hence I am a stranger amidst my kinfolk And an exile from their company, Since I seek the companionship of holy men; There alone do I feel happy, In the world I only weep. I planted the creeper of love And silently watered it with my tears; Now it has grown and overspread my dwelling. You offered me a cup of poison Which I drank with joy.