Waiting

With head on hand before my door,
I sit and wait in vain.
Along the road to Pandhari
My heart and eyes I strain.

When shall I look upon my Lord?

When shall I see him come?
Of all the passing days and hours
I count the heavy sum.

With watching long my eyelids throb,
My limbs with sore distress,
But my impatient heart forgets
My body's weariness.

Sleep is no longer sweet to me;
I care not for my bed;
Forgotten are my house and home,
All thirst and hunger fled.

Says Tuka, Blest shall be the day, —
Ah, soon may it betide! —
When one shall come from Pandhari
To summon back the bride.