Complete Works. Rabindranath Tagore

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      II. 59. jânh, cet acet khambh dôû

      Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has

       the mind made a swing:

       Thereon hang all beings and all worlds, and that swing never

       ceases its sway.

       Millions of beings are there: the sun and the moon in their

       courses are there:

       Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on.

       All swing! the sky and the earth and the air and the water; and

       the Lord Himself taking form:

       And the sight of this has made Kabîr a servant.

XVII

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      II. 61. grah candra tapan jot varat hai

      The light of the sun, the moon, and the stars shines bright:

       The melody of love swells forth, and the rhythm of love's

       detachment beats the time.

       Day and night, the chorus of music fills the heavens; and Kabîr

       says

       "My Beloved One gleams like the lightning flash in the sky."

      Do you know how the moments perform their adoration?

       Waving its row of lamps, the universe sings in worship day and

       night,

       There are the hidden banner and the secret canopy:

       There the sound of the unseen bells is heard.

       Kabîr says: "There adoration never ceases; there the Lord of the

       Universe sitteth on His throne."

       The whole world does its works and commits its errors: but few

       are the lovers who know the Beloved.

       The devout seeker is he who mingles in his heart the double

       currents of love and detachment, like the mingling of the

       streams of Ganges and Jumna;

       In his heart the sacred water flows day and night; and thus the

       round of births and deaths is brought to an end.

      Behold what wonderful rest is in the Supreme Spirit! and he

       enjoys it, who makes himself meet for it.

       Held by the cords of love, the swing of the Ocean of Joy sways to

       and fro; and a mighty sound breaks forth in song.

       See what a lotus blooms there without water! and Kabîr says

       "My heart's bee drinks its nectar."

       What a wonderful lotus it is, that blooms at the heart of the

       spinning wheel of the universe! Only a few pure souls know of

       its true delight.

       Music is all around it, and there the heart partakes of the joy

       of the Infinite Sea.

       Kabîr says: "Dive thou into that Ocean of sweetness: thus let all

       errors of life and of death flee away."

      Behold how the thirst of the five senses is quenched there! and

       the three forms of misery are no more!

       Kabîr says: "It is the sport of the Unattainable One: look

       within, and behold how the moon-beams of that Hidden One shine

       in you."

       There falls the rhythmic beat of life and death:

       Rapture wells forth, and all space is radiant with light.

       There the Unstruck Music is sounded; it is the music of the love

       of the three worlds.

       There millions of lamps of sun and of moon are burning;

       There the drum beats, and the lover swings in play.

       There love-songs resound, and light rains in showers; and the

       worshipper is entranced in the taste of the heavenly nectar.

       Look upon life and death; there is no separation between them,

       The right hand and the left hand are one and the same.

       Kabîr says: "There the wise man is speechless; for this truth may

       never be found in Vadas or in books."

      I have had my Seat on the Self-poised One,

       I have drunk of the Cup of the Ineffable,

       I have found the Key of the Mystery,

       I have reached the Root of Union.

       Travelling by no track, I have come to the Sorrowless Land: very

       easily has the mercy of the great Lord come upon me.

       They have sung of Him as infinite and unattainable: but I in my

       meditations have seen Him without sight.

       That is indeed the sorrowless land, and none know the path that

       leads there:

       Only he who is on that path has surely transcended all sorrow.

       Wonderful is that land of rest, to which no merit can win;

       It is the wise who has seen it, it is the wise who has sung of

       it.

       This is the Ultimate Word: but can any express its marvellous

       savour?

       He who has savoured it once, he knows what joy it can give.

       Kabîr says: "Knowing it, the ignorant man becomes wise, and the

       wise man becomes speechless and silent,

       The worshipper is utterly inebriated,

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