Desolation

Sobs choke my throat; my eyes
Are wet with tears, —
Still waiting for my Pandurang,
Till he appears.

So long cast off by thee,
My heart despairs.
Ah, whither hast thou gone, absorbed
In other cares?

So many tasks and cares
Are thine, while I —
I am forgotten thus, alas,
And left to die.

Pilgrims and saints go past
To Pandhari,
And many messages they bear
From me to thee.

Who else but thee would run
To help my need?
O come to me, my Pandurang,
O come with speed.

How long still must I wait,
To see thy face?
Thou hast forgot thy trembling child,
Thou full of grace.

Once more remember me,
I, Tuka, pray.
O come to fetch thy darling home,
Make no delay.