I. 48. sukh sâgar men âîke
WHEN at last you are come to the ocean of happiness, do not go back thirsty.
Wake, foolish man! for Death stalks you. Here is pure water before you; drink it at every breath.
Do not follow the mirage on foot, but thirst for the nectar;
Dhruva, Prahlad, and Shukadeva have drunk of it, and also Raidas has tasted it:
The saints are drunk with love, their thirst is for love.
Kabîr says: “Listen to me, brother! The nest of fear is broken.
Not for a moment have you come face to face with the world: [p. 106]
You are weaving your bondage of falsehood, your words are full of deception:
With the load of desires which you. hold on your head, how can you be light?”
Kabîr says: “Keep within you truth, detachment, and love.”
I. 35. satî ko kaun s’ikhâwtâ hai
WHO has ever taught the widowed wife to burn herself on the pyre of her dead husband?
And who has ever taught love to find bliss in renunciation?
I. 39. are man, dhîraj kâhe na dharai
WHY so impatient, my heart?
He who watches over birds, beasts, and insects, [p. 107]
He who cared for you whilst you were yet in your mother’s womb,
Shall He not care for you now that you are come forth?
Oh my heart, how could you turn from the smile of your Lord and wander so far from Him?
You have left Your Beloved and are thinking of others: and this is why all your work is in vain.
I. 117. sâîn se lagan kathin hai, bhâî
NOW hard it is to meet my Lord!
The rain-bird wails in thirst for the rain: almost she dies of her longing, yet she would have none other water than the rain.
Drawn by the love of music, the deer moves forward: she dies as she listens to the music, yet she shrinks not in fear. [p. 108]
The widowed wife sits by the body of her dead husband: she is not afraid of the fire.
Put away all fear for this poor body.
I. 22. jab main bhûlâ, re bhâî
O BROTHER! when I was forgetful, my true Guru showed me the Way.
Then I left off all rites and ceremonies, I bathed no more in the holy water:
Then I learned that it was I alone who was mad, and the whole world beside me was sane; and I had disturbed these wise people.
From that time forth I knew no more how to roll in the dust in obeisance:
I do not ring the temple bell:
I do not set the idol on its throne: [p. 109]
I do not worship the image with flowers.
It is not the austerities that mortify the flesh which are pleasing to the Lord,
When you leave off your clothes and kill your senses, you do not please the Lord:
The man who is kind and who practises righteousness, who remains passive amidst the affairs of the world, who considers all creatures on earth as his own self,
He attains the Immortal Being, the true God is ever with him.
Kabîr says: “He attains the true Name whose words are pure, and who is free from pride and conceit.”
I. 20. man na rangâye
THE Yogi dyes his garments, instead of dyeing his mind in the colours of love: [p. 110]
He sits within the temple of the Lord, leaving Brahma to worship a stone.
He pierces holes in his ears, he has a great beard and matted locks, he looks like a goat:
He goes forth into the wilderness, killing all his desires, and turns himself into an eunuch:
He shaves his head and dyes his garments; he reads the Gîtâ and becomes a mighty talker.
Kabîr says: “You are going to the doors of death, bound hand and foot!”
I. 9. nâ jâne sâhab kaisâ hai
I DO not know what manner of God is mine.
The Mullah cries aloud to Him: and why? Is your Lord deaf? The subtle anklets that ring on the [p. 111] feet of an insect when it moves are heard of Him.
Tell your beads, paint your forehead with the mark of your God, and wear matted locks long and showy: but a deadly weapon is in your heart, and how shall you have God?
III. 102. ham se rahâ na jây
I HEAR the melody of His flute, and I cannot contain myself:
The flower blooms, though it is not spring; and already the bee has received its invitation.
The sky roars and the lightning flashes, the waves arise in my heart,
The rain falls; and my heart longs for my Lord.
Where the rhythm of the world rises and falls, thither my heart has reached: [p. 112]
There the hidden banners are fluttering in the air.
Kabîr says: “My heart is dying, though it lives.”
III. 2. jo khodâ masjid vasat hai
IF God be within the mosque, then to whom does this world belong?
If Ram be within the image which you find upon your pilgrimage, then who is there to know what happens without?
Hari is in the East: Allah is in the West. Look within your heart, for there you will find both Karim and Ram;
All the men and women of the world are His living forms.
Kabîr is the child of Allah and of Ram: He is my Guru, He is my Pir.
[p. 113]
III. 9. s’îl santosh sadâ samadrishti
HE who is meek and contented., he who has an equal vision, whose mind is filled with the fullness of acceptance and of rest;
He who has seen Him and touched Him, he is freed from all fear and trouble.
To him the perpetual thought of God is like sandal paste smeared on the body, to him nothing else is delight:
His work and his rest are filled with music: he sheds abroad the radiance of love.
Kabîr says: “Touch His feet, who is one and indivisible, immutable and peaceful; who fills all vessels to the brim with joy, and whose form is love.”