Mother, am I Thine eight-months child? Thy red eyes cannot frighten me!

My riches are Thy Lotus Feet, which Śiva holds upon His breast; Yet, when I seek my heritage, I meet with excuses and delays. A deed of gift I hold in my heart, attested by Thy Husband Siva; I shall sue Thee, if I must, and with a single point shall win.

A premature child is generally weak and fearful.

If Thou dost oppose me, Thou wilt learn what sort of mother's son I am.

This bitterly contested suit between the Mother and Her son-What sport it is! says Ramprasad. I shall not cease tormenting Thee Till Thou Thyself shalt yield the fight and take me in Thine arms at last.

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 264)

Out of my deep affliction rescue me, O Redeemer! Terrified by the threats of the King of Death am I! Left to myself, I shall perish soon; Save me, oh, save me now, I pray!

Mother of all the worlds! Thou, the Support of mankind! Thou, the Bewitcher of all, the Mother of all that has life! Vrindavan's charming Rādhā art Thou, Dearest playmate of Braja's Beloved.

Blissful comrade of Krishna, well-spring of Krishna's līlā, Child of Himalaya, best of the gopis, beloved of Govinda! Sacred Ganga, Giver of moksha! Sakti! The universe sings Thy praise.

Thou art the Spouse of Śiva, the Ever-blessed, the All; Sometimes Thou takest form and sometimes art absolute. Eternal Beloved of Mahādeva, Who can fathom Thine infinite glories?

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 301)

I have surrendered my soul at the fearless feet of the Mother,

Am I afraid of Death any more? Unto the tuft of hair on my head Is tied the almighty mantra, Mother Kali's name. 

My body I have sold in the market-place of the world And with it have bought Sri Durga's name. 

Deep within my heart I have planted the name of Kali, The Wish fulfilling Tree of heaven; 

When Yama, King of Death, appears, To him I shall open my heart and show it growing there. 

I have cast out from me my six unflagging foes; Ready am I to sail life's sea, Crying, "To Durgā, victory!”

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 302)

Thy name, I have heard, O Consort of Siva, is the destroyer of our fear,

And so on Thee I cast my burden: Save me! Save me, O kindly Mother!

Out of Thy womb the world is born, and Thou it is that dost pervade it.

Art Thou Kali? Art Thou Radha? Who can ever rightly say?

Mother, in every living creature Thou dost have Thy dwelling-place;

As Kundalini Thou dost live in the lotus of the Muladhara.

Above it lies the Svadhisthana, where the four-petalled lotus blooms;

There also Thou dost make Thy home, O mystic power of Kundalini,

In the four petals of that flower, and in Vajrāsana's six petals. At the navel is Manipura, the blue ten-petalled lotus flower;

Through the pathway of Sushumna, Thou dost ascend and enter there.

O Lady of the lotuses, in lotus blossoms Thou dost dwell!

Beyond them lies the Lake of Nectar, in the region of the heart, Where the twelve-petalled lotus flower enchants the eye with scarlet flame.

When Thou dost open it, O Mother, touching it with Thy Lotus Feet,

The age-long darkness of the heart instantly scatters at Thy sight.

Above, in the throat, is the sixteen-petalled lotus flower, of smoky

hue;

Within the petals of this flower there lies concealed a subtle space, Transcending which, one sees at length the universe in Space dissolve.

And higher yet, between the eyebrows, blossoms the lotus of two petals.

Where the mind of man remains a prisoner and past controlling; From this flower the mind desires to watch the sportive play of life.

Highest of all, within the head, the soul-enthralling centre is, Where shines the thousand-petalled lotus, Mahādeva's dwelling-place.

Having ascended to His throne, O Spouse of Śiva, sit beside Him! Thou art the Primal Power, O Mother! She whose senses are controlled;

The yogis meditate on Thee as Uma, great Himalaya's daughter.

Thou who art the Power of Siva! Put to death my ceaseless cravings;

Grant that I never fall again into the ocean of this world.

Mother, Thou art the Primal Power, Thou the five cosmic prin-ciples;

Who can ever hope to know Thee, who art beyond all principles? Only for Thy bhaktas' sake dost Thou assume Thy various forms;

But when Thy devotee's five senses merge in the five elements,

Mother, it is Thyself alone that he beholds as formless Truth.

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 262)

The black bee of my mind is drawn in sheer delight To the blue lotus flower of Mother Syämä's feet, The blue flower of the feet of Kali, Śiva's Consort; Tasteless, to the bee, are the blossoms of desire.

My Mother's feet are black, and black, too, is the bee; Black is made one with black! This much of the mystery 

My mortal eyes behold, then hastily retreat.

But Kamalākānta's hopes are answered in the end;

He swims in the Sea of Bliss, unmoved by joy or pain.

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 193)

O Mother, what a machine is this that Thou hast made! What pranks Thou playest with this toy

Three and a half cubits high!

Hiding Thyself within, Thou holdest the guiding string;

But the machine, not knowing it,

Still believes it moves by itself.

Whoever finds the Mother remains a machine no more

Yet some machines have even bound The Mother Herself with the string of Love

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 193)

Upon the tray of the sky blaze bright The lamps of sun and moon; Like diamonds shine the glittering stars

To deck Thy wondrous form. The sweet Malaya breeze blows soft, For fragrant incense smoke; The moving air sways to and fro The fan before Thy holy face; Like gleaming votive lights The fresh and flowery groves appear.

How wonderful Thy worship is,

O Slayer of birth and death! The sacred Om, from space arisen, Is the resounding drum. My mind craves nectar day and night At Hari's Lotus Feet; Oh, shower the waters of Thy grace On thirsty Nának, blessed Lord; And may Thy hallowed name Become his everlasting home!

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 199)

Where is a friend like Thee, O Essence of Mercy? 

Where is another friend like Thee

To stand by me through pain and pleasure? Who, among all my friends, forgives my failings, 

Bringing me comfort for my grief, Soothing my spirit in its terror?

Thou art the Helmsman who dost steer life's craft Across the world's perilous sea; 

Thy grace it is alone, O Lord, That silences my raging passions' storm.

Thou pourest out the waters of peace

Upon my burning, penitent soul;

And Thine is the bosom that will shelter me

When every other friend I own

Deserts me in my dying hour.

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 199)

O King of Kings, reveal Thyself to me!

I crave Thy mercy. Cast on me Thy glance!

At Thy dear feet I dedicate my life, Seared in 

the fiery furnace of this world.

My heart, alas, is deeply stained with sin; Ensnared in mayā, I am all but dead.

Compassionate Lord! Revive my fainting soul With the life-giving nectar of Thy grace.

The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (First Edition April 1996, Page No. 198)