Oh Great Sri Ramana, Lord of many Souls,
As one thinks nacre looks like silver in a shell,
Or water mixed with flour, looks like milk as well,
A glass bead bauble appears as a crystal bowl,
A mirage we think is just a watering hole;
So the fool, destined for yet another hell,
Worships other than what is Thee; the spell
Of Maya that deceives. Oh Lord of the Whole!
The rope we perceive is a venomous snake,
And the stone dog we imagine to be real.
We mistake a man for a scarecrow’s stake,
And what we touch seems solid when we feel.
Mind's under constant illusion, Lord Aruna,
Save us from this dire delusion, Great Ramana!
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