Songs of Kabir — trans. Rabindranath Tagore, with an introduction by Evelyn Underhill (1915)

Open to allKabir62 segments · 21 pp

The text is shown on its own: no facing layer is held for this issue.

page 10

The translator’s English as printed (Rabindranath Tagore, with an introduction by Evelyn Underhill). The original-language text is not held; names are romanised as the translator printed them.

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,
His wisdom and his detachment are made perfect;
He drinks from the cup of the inbreathings and the outbreathings
of love."

There the whole sky is filled with sound, and there that music is
made without fingers and without strings;
There the game of pleasure and pain does not cease.
Kabîr says: "If you merge your life in the Ocean of Life, you
will find your life in the Supreme Land of Bliss."

What a frenzy of ecstasy there is in every hour! and the worshipper is pressing out and drinking the essence of the hours: he lives in the life of Brahma. I speak truth, for I have accepted truth in life; I am now attached to truth, I have swept all tinsel away. Kabîr says: "Thus is the worshipper set free from fear; thus have all errors of life and of death left him."

There the sky is filled with music:
There it rains nectar:
There the harp-strings jingle, and there the drums beat.
What a secret splendour is there, in the mansion of the sky!
There no mention is made of the rising and the setting of the
sun;
In the ocean of manifestation, which is the light of love, day
and night are felt to be one.
Joy for ever, no sorrow,--no struggle!
There have I seen joy filled to the brim, perfection of joy;
No place for error is there.
Kabîr says: "There have I witnessed the sport of One Bliss!"

I have known in my body the sport of the universe: I have escaped from the error of this world.. The inward and the outward are become as one sky, the Infinite and the finite are united: I am drunken with the sight of this All! This Light of Thine fulfils the universe: the lamp of love that burns on the salver of knowledge. Kabîr says: "There error cannot enter, and the conflict of life and death is felt no more."

XVIII

II. 77. _maddh âkas' âp jahân baithe_

The middle region of the sky, wherein the spirit dwelleth, is radiant with the music of light; There, where the pure and white music blossoms, my Lord takes His delight. In the wondrous effulgence of each hair of His body, the brightness of millions of suns and of moons is lost. On that shore there is a city, where the rain of nectar pours and pours, and never ceases. Kabîr says: "Come, O Dharmadas! and see my great Lord's Durbar."

XIX

II. 20. _paramâtam guru nikat virâjatn_

Commentary
page 10 ·

No commentary for this page.

There is commentary on pages 7, 9, 14, 17.