I. 130. sâîn vin dard kareje hoy
When I am parted from my Beloved, my heart is full of misery: I
have no comfort in the day, I have no sleep in the night. To
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
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
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
I. 73. bhakti kâ mârag jhînâ re