No complaints have I My lord, None. Lord of the Written Word, My light, my sight, My very eyes No complaints, None. Though you stand Where I behold you not My light, my very eyes, Protector of all earthlings I know you sustain me Lord of the Venkata Hill so pure You meet my hunger, my thirst My hope, my prayer You keep me from harm, Lord of the Sparkling Gems, I need naught else Father of the Seven Hills, Naught else. You stand — do you not? — Veiled by a screen Only the learned can part For they are the learned Which I am not But no, no complaints have I. Descending in the time of Kali yuga You stand as rock Giver of Boons Immutable God Father to these hills No complaints have I Govinda ! In this benighted Age of ours Lord — The worst of all the Four — You have entered The sanctum A shaft of granite Where though I see you not No complaints have I. Boulder of strength With the Ocean, Heaving on your breast, Of the purest compassion — My Mother, My very own, who grants Anything I ask of her Can I possibly have compaints? The two of you, I know, Stand there for me Eternally No complaints have I my Govinda None, none whatsoever Govinda! Govinda! Govinda! Govinda!