There's no end to devotion*

There's no end to my  devotion to thee,
whence in You do  I  see,
all my wishes and desires
(Melting into tranquility);

This search, is it for fruits?
(Or for corns? )
Nay for that wilt be
Taking away me
From thee,
(Can never carry that burden
If I think only of fruits,
coming to me sudden),
Instead leaving the fruits
Do I soulful sing,
To make buds bloom;

Thus in my life comes
That eagerness like a balm,
Which brings new pains
With newer creative sense;

Once do I get things I wish
They with time only diminish
And I (opening to thy sky)
Stretch my hands again
To get more of thy perpetual music
Thy perennial sense that sticks,

And how that keeps on
Me getting Thy ambrosaic potion
And I turning them to songs.

(*note: it is a transliteration of poem/ song  number 37, as can be found in page number 411, Collected Works/ রবীন্দ্ররচনাবলি , Birth Centenary edition.
The transliteration is my humble tribute to Tagore, the greatest poet and philosopher of all times)