Complete Works. Rabindranath Tagore

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       whom shall I tell my sorrow?

       The night is dark; the hours slip by. Because my Lord is absent,

       I start up and tremble with fear.

       Kabîr says: "Listen, my friend! there is no other satisfaction,

       save in the encounter with the Beloved."

LIII

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      I. 122. kaum muralî s'abd s'un ânand bhayo

      What is that flute whose music thrills me with joy?

       The flame burns without a lamp;

       The lotus blossoms without a root;

       Flowers bloom in clusters;

       The moon-bird is devoted to the moon;

       With all its heart the rain-bird longs for the shower of rain;

       But upon whose love does the Lover concentrate His entire life?

LIV

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      I. 112. s'untâ nahî dhun kî khabar

      Have you not heard the tune which the Unstruck Music is playing?

       In the midst of the chamber the harp of joy is gently and

       sweetly played; and where is the need of going without to hear

       it?

       If you have not drunk of the nectar of that One Love, what boots

       it though you should purge yourself of all stains?

       The Kazi is searching the words of the Koran, and instructing

       others: but if his heart be not steeped in that love, what does

       it avail, though he be a teacher of men?

       The Yogi dyes his garments with red: but if he knows naught of

       that colour of love, what does it avail though his garments be

       tinted?

       Kabîr says: "Whether I be in the temple or the balcony, in the

       camp or in the flower garden, I tell you truly that every

       moment my Lord is taking His delight in me."

LV

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      I. 73. bhakti kâ mârag jhînâ re

      Subtle is the path of love!

       Therein there is no asking and no not-asking,

       There one loses one's self at His feet,

       There one is immersed in the joy of the seeking: plunged in the

       deeps of love as the fish in the water.

       The lover is never slow in offering his head for his Lord's

       service.

       Kabîr declares the secret of this love.

LVI

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      I. 68. bhâi kôî satguru sant kahâwaî

      He is the real Sadhu, who can reveal the form of the Formless to

       the vision of these eyes:

       Who teaches the simple way of attaining Him, that is other than

       rites or ceremonies:

       Who does not make you close the doors, and hold the breath, and

       renounce the world:

       Who makes you perceive the Supreme Spirit wherever the mind

       attaches itself:

       Who teaches you to be still in the midst of all your activities.

       Ever immersed in bliss, having no fear in his mind, he keeps the

       spirit of union in the midst of all enjoyments.

       The infinite dwelling of the Infinite Being is everywhere: in

       earth, water, sky, and air:

       Firm as the thunderbolt, the seat of the seeker is established

       above the void.

       He who is within is without: I see Him and none else.

LVII

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      I. 66. sâdho, s'abd sâdhnâ kîjai

      Receive that Word from which the Universe springeth!

       That word is the Guru; I have heard it, and become the disciple.

       How many are there who know the meaning of that word?

      O Sadhu! practise that Word!

       The Vedas and the Puranas proclaim it,

       The world is established in it,

       The Rishis and devotees speak of it:

       But none knows the mystery of the Word.

       The householder leaves his house when he hears it,

       The ascetic comes back to love when he hears it,

       The Six Philosophies expound it,

       The Spirit of Renunciation points to that Word,

       From that Word the world-form has sprung,

       That Word reveals all.

       Kabîr says: "But who knows whence the Word cometh?

LVIII

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