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

Clouds thicken in the sky! O, listen to the deep voice of their roaring; The rain comes from the east with its monotonous murmur. Take care of the fences and boundaries of your fields, lest the rains overflow them; Prepare the soil of deliverance, and let the creepers of love and renunciation be soaked in this shower. It is the prudent farmer who will bring his harvest home; he shall fill both his vessels, and feed both the wise men and the saints.

LXXXVIII

III. 118. _âj din ke main jaun balihârî_

This day is dear to me above all other days, for to-day the
Beloved Lord is a guest in my house;
My chamber and my courtyard are beautiful with His presence.
My longings sing His Name, and they are become lost in His great
beauty:
I wash His feet, and I look upon His Face; and I lay before Him
as an offering my body, my mind, and all that I have.
What a day of gladness is that day in which my Beloved, who is my
treasure, comes to my house!
All evils fly from my heart when I see my Lord.
"My love has touched Him; my heart is longing for the Name which
is Truth."
Thus sings Kabîr, the servant of all servants.

LXXXIX

I. 100. _kôi s'untâ hai jñânî râg gagan men_

Is there any wise man who will listen to that solemn music which arises in the sky? For He, the Source of all music, makes all vessels full fraught, and rests in fullness Himself. He who is in the body is ever athirst, for he pursues that which is in part: But ever there wells forth deeper and deeper the sound "He is this--this is He"; fusing love and renunciation into one. Kabîr says: "O brother! that is the Primal Word."

XC

I. 108. _main kâ se bûjhaun_

To whom shall I go to learn about my Beloved?
Kabîr says: "As you never may find the forest if you ignore the
tree, so He may never be found in abstractions."

XCI

III. 12. _samskirit bhâshâ padhi lînhâ_

I have learned the Sanskrit language, so let all men call me
wise:
But where is the use of this, when I am floating adrift, and
parched with thirst, and burning with the heat of desire?
To no purpose do you bear on your head this load of pride and
vanity.
Kabîr says: "Lay it down in the dust, and go forth to meet the
Beloved. Address Him as your Lord."

XCII

III. 110. _carkhâ calai surat virahin kâ_

The woman who is parted from her lover spins at the spinning wheel. The city of the body arises in its beauty; and within it the palace of the mind has been built. The wheel of love revolves in the sky, and the seat is made of the jewels of knowledge: What subtle threads the woman weaves, and makes them fine with love and reverence! Kabîr says: "I am weaving the garland of day and night. When my Lover comes and touches me with His feet, I shall offer Him my tears."

XCIII

III. 111. _kotîn bhânu candra târâgan_

Beneath the great umbrella of my King millions of suns and moons
and stars are shining!
He is the Mind within my mind: He is the Eye within mine eye.
Ah, could my mind and eyes be one! Could my love but reach to my
Lover! Could but the fiery heat of my heart be cooled!
Kabîr says: "When you unite love with the Lover, then you have
love's perfection."

XCIV

I. 92. _avadhû begam des' hamârâ_

O sadhu! my land is a sorrowless land.
I cry aloud to all, to the king and the beggar, the emperor and
the fakir--
Whosoever seeks for shelter in the Highest, let all come and
settle in my land!
Let the weary come and lay his burdens here!

So live here, my brother, that you may cross with ease to that
other shore.
It is a land without earth or sky, without moon or stars;
For only the radiance of Truth shines in my Lord's Durbar.
Kabîr says: "O beloved brother! naught is essential save Truth."

XCV

I. 109. _sâîn ke sangat sâsur âî_

Came with my Lord to my Lord's home: but I lived not with Him and
I tasted Him not, and my youth passed away like a dream.
On my wedding night my women-friends sang in chorus, and I was
anointed with the unguents of pleasure and pain:
But when the ceremony was over, I left my Lord and came away, and
my kinsman tried to console me upon the road.
Kabîr says, "I shall go to my Lord's house with my love at my
side; then shall I sound the trumpet of triumph!"

XCVI

I. 75. _samajh dekh man mît piyarwâ_

O friend, dear heart of mine, think well! if you love indeed, then why do you sleep? If you have found Him, then give yourself utterly, and take Him to you. Why do you loose Him again and again? If the deep sleep of rest has come to your eyes, why waste your time making the bed and arranging the pillows? Kabîr says: "I tell you the ways of love! Even though the head itself must be given, why should you weep over it?"

XCVII

II. 90. _sâhab ham men, sâhab tum men_