The flower is open all amidst the thorns

Dūtikā:
The flower is open all amidst the thorns;
The frenzied bee can find no place of rest,
But haunts continually the nectar-laden jasmine,
Reckless of life in eager thirst.

He honey-life, you honey-heap.
Already hiding hoarded sweets,--
The maddened bee has neither home
Nor rest without your jasmine-self.

Deep in your heart consider this:
Why should you be the murderer of a bee?
For Vidyāpati avows: He will return to life.
If He may drink the nectar of your lips.