Do not mention the name of love, 
O my simple-minded companion. 
Strange is the path 
When you offer your love. 
Your body is crushed at the first step. 

If you want to offer love 
Be prepared to cut off your head 
And sit on it. 
Be like the moth, 
Which circles the lamp and offers its body. 
Be like the deer, which, on hearing the horn, 
Offers its head to the hunter. 
Be like the partridge, 
Which swallows burning coals 
In love of the moon. 
Be like the fish 
Which yields up its life 
When separated from the sea. 
Be like the bee, 
Entrapped in the closing petals of the lotus. 

Mira's lord is the courtly Giridhara. 
She says: Offer your mind 
To those lotus feet.