There is an Om, the Word, Eternal Sound, Creator of this world and worlds to be We sing His Name from every sacred ground In valleys, hills, in all humility.
The flowers chant Him in their blossoming The birds obeisance is offered in their song. We call him down and when together we sing For God's transforming force we fervently long.
Om Sri Aurobindo Mira, grant our prayer Deliver us from our inconstancy Transform all lives, the hapless and the fair, Let us become the Image built by Thee.
Poems Undated (1727)
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