Ruined Harvest

Poetic Rendering

The field was sown,
the shoots rose green,
the grain ripened,
the harvest was gathered in.
Sheaves were threshed,
the chaff blown off by the wind,
the grain measured and stored
a year’s labour brought to fullness.
And then
the threshing post pulled out,
the threshing floor destroyed,
all that was earned scattered to nothing.
O Kudalasangamadeva,
like a farmer with his harvest ruined,
my life too lies wasted, empty-handed.

Spiritual Context

Interpretation

The Cosmic Reality

Shata Sthala

Practical Integration

Modern Application

Essence

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