Look, who is roving in the sky!
I am he, I am he, the echoing word replies!
At the feet of the dark one, I wish to die
For simply matchless is my beloved Krishna!
Look, who is roving in the sky!
I am he, I am he, the echoing word replies!

So unfathomable is the mystery of his dark beauty,
You lose your way in the eternity of celebration!
As you clutch at the love's life-giving roots
Both the living and the lifeless become ambrosia of immortality!
Look, who is roving in the sky!
I am he, I am he, the echoing word replies!

Where the brilliant flame with effulgence of million suns is lit
Which pales even the brilliance of gold,
There Satchitananda frolics in joy
Happily swinging in the glorious cradle of gold!
Look, who is roving in the sky!
I am he, I am he, the echoing word replies!

Without wick, without oil, without thread,
Shines perpetually, the immaculate Flame!
See him without eyes; make out the one who is without form;
Enjoy the nectar without tongue!
Look, who is roving in the sky!
I am he, I am he, the echoing word replies!

He is unknowable, imperishable; he is everywhere,
Narsaiyya's lord has encompassed all
Yet he is snared by saints in the subtle strings of love!
Look, who is roving in the sky!
I am he, I am he, the echoing word replies!