The mystic dance,

Mixing with every cell,

Blasts in bliss,

It’s without a beginning or an end.

It’s beyond everything and yet

Knower of all.

It doesn’t judge you for your rank

Because compared to it everything is limited-no matter how exalted it seems.

It’s neither one nor many because it’s the only thing,

It knows no other.

To this bliss : every being belongs.

Towards this bliss: every being strives

To this bliss every being returns,

Eventually.