The Sleeper

Restless was the night, alone I slept.
But, with the break of day, my Beloved arrived,
Radiant as the dawn of time.

Soft, as a murmuring drum, His footsteps at my door.
Louder now, He knocks; why do I not arise?
He calls me now, to stir me, but sleep still clouds my eyes.

When will I awaken, and hear His ringing cry?
When will my door be opened, and His blessed form arise?

— Bhai Din

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