Songs of Kabir

Songs of Kabir 1
Songs of Kabir
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Title: Songs of Kabir
Author: Rabindranath Tagore (trans.)
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SONGS OF KABÎR
Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Introduction by Evelyn Underhill
New York, The Macmillan Company
1915
INTRODUCTION
The poet Kabîr, a selection from whose songs is here for the first time offered to English readers, is one of the
most interesting personalities in the history of Indian mysticism. Born in or near Benares, of Mohammedan
Songs of Kabir 2
parents, and probably about the year 1440, be became in early life a disciple of the celebrated Hindu ascetic
Râmânanda. Râmânanda had brought to Northern India the religious revival which Râmânuja, the great
twelfth−century reformer of Brâhmanism, had initiated in the South. This revival was in part a reaction
against the increasing formalism of the orthodox cult, in part an assertion of the demands of the heart as
against the intense intellectualism of the Vedânta philosophy, the exaggerated monism which that philosophy
proclaimed. It took in Râmânuja's preaching the form of an ardent personal devotion to the God Vishnu, as
representing the personal aspect of the Divine Nature: that mystical "religion of love" which everywhere
makes its appearance at a certain level of spiritual culture, and which creeds and philosophies are powerless to
kill.
Though such a devotion is indigenous in Hinduism, and finds expression in many passages of the Bhagavad
Gîtâ, there was in its mediæval revival a large element of syncretism. Râmânanda, through whom its spirit is
said to have reached Kabîr, appears to have been a man of wide religious culture, and full of missionary
enthusiasm. Living at the moment in which the impassioned poetry and deep philosophy of the great Persian
mystics, Attâr, Sâdî, Jalâlu'ddîn Rûmî, and Hâfiz, were exercising a powerful influence on the religious
thought of India, he dreamed of reconciling this intense and personal Mohammedan mysticism with the
traditional theology of Brâhmanism. Some have regarded both these great religious leaders as influenced also
by Christian thought and life: but as this is a point upon which competent authorities hold widely divergent
views, its discussion is not attempted here. We may safely assert, however, that in their teachings, two−−
perhaps three−−apparently antagonistic streams of intense spiritual culture met, as Jewish and Hellenistic
thought met in the early Christian Church: and it is one of the outstanding characteristics of Kabîr's genius
that he was able in his poems to fuse them into one.
A great religious reformer, the founder of a sect to which nearly a million northern Hindus still belong, it is
yet supremely as a mystical poet that Kabîr lives for us. His fate has been that of many revealers of Reality. A
hater of religious exclusivism, and seeking above all things to initiate men into the liberty of the children of
God, his followers have honoured his memory by re−erecting in a new place the barriers which he laboured to
cast down. But his wonderful songs survive, the spontaneous expressions of his vision and his love; and it is
by these, not by the didactic teachings associated with his name, that he makes his immortal appeal to the
heart. In these poems a wide range of mystical emotion is brought into play: from the loftiest abstractions, the
most otherworldly passion for the Infinite, to the most intimate and personal realization of God, expressed in
homely metaphors and religious symbols drawn indifferently from Hindu and Mohammedan belief. It is
impossible to say of their author that he was Brâhman or Sûfî, Vedântist or Vaishnavite. He is, as he says
himself, "at once the child of Allah and of Râm." That Supreme Spirit Whom he knew and adored, and to
Whose joyous friendship he sought to induct the souls of other men, transcended whilst He included all
metaphysical categories, all credal definitions; yet each contributed something to the description of that
Infinite and Simple Totality Who revealed Himself, according to their measure, to the faithful lovers of all
creeds.
Kabîr's story is surrounded by contradictory legends, on none of which reliance can be placed. Some of these
emanate from a Hindu, some from a Mohammedan source, and claim him by turns as a Sûfî and a Brâhman
saint. His name, however, is practically a conclusive proof of Moslem ancestry: and the most probable tale is
that which represents him as the actual or adopted child of a Mohammedan weaver of Benares, the city in
which the chief events of his life took place.
In fifteenth−century Benares the syncretistic tendencies of Bhakti religion had reached full development.
Sûfîs and Brâhmans appear to have met in disputation: the most spiritual members of both creeds frequenting
the teachings of Râmânanda, whose reputation was then at its height. The boy Kabîr, in whom the religious
passion was innate, saw in Râmânanda his destined teacher; but knew how slight were the chances that a
Hindu guru would accept a Mohammedan as disciple. He therefore hid upon the steps of the river Ganges,
where Râmânanda was accustomed to bathe; with the result that the master, coming down to the water, trod
upon his body unexpectedly, and exclaimed in his astonishment, "Ram! Ram!"−−the name of the incarnation
Songs of Kabir 3
under which he worshipped God. Kabîr then declared that he had received the mantra of initiation from
Râmânanda's lips, and was by it admitted to discipleship. In spite of the protests of orthodox Brâhmans and
Mohammedans, both equally annoyed by this contempt of theological landmarks, he persisted in his claim;
thus exhibiting in action that very principle of religious synthesis which Râmânanda had sought to establish in
thought. Râmânanda appears to have accepted him, and though Mohammedan legends speak of the famous
Sûfî Pîr, Takkî of Jhansî, as Kabîr's master in later life, the Hindu saint is the only human teacher to whom in
his songs he acknowledges indebtedness.
The little that we know of Kabîr's life contradicts many current ideas concerning the Oriental mystic. Of the
stages of discipline through which he passed, the manner in which his spiritual genius developed, we are
completely ignorant. He seems to have remained for years the disciple of Râmânanda, joining in the
theological and philosophical arguments which his master held with all the great Mullahs and Brâhmans of his
day; and to this source we may perhaps trace his acquaintance with the terms of Hindu and Sûfî philosophy.
He may or may not have submitted to the traditional education of the Hindu or the Sûfî contemplative: it is
clear, at any rate, that he never adopted the life of the professional ascetic, or retired from the world in order to
devote himself to bodily mortifications and the exclusive pursuit of the contemplative life. Side by side with
his interior life of adoration, its artistic expression in music and words−−for he was a skilled musician as well
as a poet−−he lived the sane and diligent life of the Oriental craftsman. All the legends agree on this point:
that Kabîr was a weaver, a simple and unlettered man, who earned his living at the loom. Like Paul the
tentmaker, Boehme the cobbler, Bunyan the tinker, Tersteegen the ribbon−maker, he knew how to combine
vision and industry; the work of his hands helped rather than hindered the impassioned meditation of his
heart. Hating mere bodily austerities, he was no ascetic, but a married man, the father of a family−−a
circumstance which Hindu legends of the monastic type vainly attempt to conceal or explain−−and it was
from out of the heart of the common life that he sang his rapturous lyrics of divine love. Here his works
corroborate the traditional story of his life. Again and again he extols the life of home, the value and reality of
diurnal existence, with its opportunities for love and renunciation; pouring contempt−−upon the professional
sanctity of the Yogi, who "has a great beard and matted locks, and looks like a goat," and on all who think it
necessary to flee a world pervaded by love, joy, and beauty−−the proper theatre of man's quest−−in order to
find that One Reality Who has "spread His form of love throughout all the world." [Footnote: Cf. Poems Nos.
XXI, XL, XLIII, LXVI, LXXVI.]
It does not need much experience of ascetic literature to recognize the boldness and originality of this attitude
in such a time and place. From the point of view of orthodox sanctity, whether Hindu or Mohammedan, Kabîr
was plainly a heretic; and his frank dislike of all institutional religion, all external observance−−which was as
thorough and as intense as that of the Quakers themselves−−completed, so far as ecclesiastical opinion was
concerned, his reputation as a dangerous man. The "simple union" with Divine Reality which he perpetually
extolled, as alike the duty and the joy of every soul, was independent both of ritual and of bodily austerities;
the God whom he proclaimed was "neither in Kaaba nor in Kailâsh." Those who sought Him needed not to go
far; for He awaited discovery everywhere, more accessible to "the washerwoman and the carpenter" than to
the self−−righteous holy man. [Footnote: Poems I, II, XLI.] Therefore the whole apparatus of piety, Hindu
and Moslem alike−−the temple and mosque, idol and holy water, scriptures and priests−−were denounced by
this inconveniently clear−sighted poet as mere substitutes for reality; dead things intervening between the soul
and its love−−
/* The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak: I know, for I have cried aloud to them. The Purâna and the
Koran are mere words: lifting up the curtain, I have seen. */ [Footnote: Poems XLII, LXV, LXVII.]
This sort of thing cannot be tolerated by any organized church; and it is not surprising that Kabîr, having his
head−quarters in Benares, the very centre of priestly influence, was subjected to considerable persecution. The
well−known legend of the beautiful courtesan sent by Brâhmans to tempt his virtue, and converted, like the
Magdalen, by her sudden encounter with the initiate of a higher love, pre serves the memory of the fear and
dislike with which he was regarded by the ecclesiastical powers. Once at least, after the performance of a
Songs of Kabir 4
supposed miracle of healing, he was brought before the Emperor Sikandar Lodi, and charged with claiming
the possession of divine powers. But Sikandar Lodi, a ruler of considerable culture, was tolerant of the
eccentricities of saintly persons belonging to his own faith. Kabîr, being of Mohammedan birth, was outside
the authority of the Brâhmans, and technically classed with the Sûfîs, to whom great theological latitude was
allowed. Therefore, though he was banished in the interests of peace from Benares, his life was spared. This
seems to have happened in 1495, when he was nearly sixty years of age; it is the last event in his career of
which we have definite knowledge. Thenceforth he appears to have moved about amongst various cities of
northern India, the centre of a group of disciples; continuing in exile that life of apostle and poet of love to
which, as he declares in one of his songs, he was destined "from the beginning of time." In 1518, an old man,
broken in health, and with hands so feeble that he could no longer make the music which he loved, he died at
Maghar near Gorakhpur.
A beautiful legend tells us that after his death his Mohammedan and Hindu disciples disputed the possession
of his body; which the Mohammedans wished to bury, the Hindus to burn. As they argued together, Kabîr
appeared before them, and told them to lift the shroud and look at that which lay beneath. They did so, and
found in the place of the corpse a heap of flowers; half of which were buried by the Mohammedans at
Maghar, and half carried by the Hindus to the holy city of Benares to be burned−− fitting conclusion to a life
which had made fragrant the most beautiful doctrines of two great creeds.
II
The poetry of mysticism might be defined on the one hand as a temperamental reaction to the vision of
Reality: on the other, as a form of prophecy. As it is the special vocation of the mystical consciousness to
mediate between two orders, going out in loving adoration towards God and coming home to tell the secrets
of Eternity to other men; so the artistic self−expression of this consciousness has also a double character. It is
love− poetry, but love−poetry which is often written with a missionary intention.
Kabîr's songs are of this kind: out−births at once of rapture and of charity. Written in the popular Hindi, not in
the literary tongue, they were deliberately addressed−−like the vernacular poetry of Jacopone da Todì and
Richard Rolle−−to the people rather than to the professionally religious class; and all must be struck by the
constant employment in them of imagery drawn from the common life, the universal experience. It is by the
simplest metaphors, by constant appeals to needs, passions, relations which all men understand−−the
bridegroom and bride, the guru and disciple, the pilgrim, the farmer, the migrant bird−− that he drives home
his intense conviction of the reality of the soul's intercourse with the Transcendent. There are in his universe
no fences between the "natural" and "supernatural" worlds; everything is a part of the creative Play of God,
and therefore−−even in its humblest details−−capable of revealing the Player's mind.
This willing acceptance of the here−and−now as a means of representing supernal realities is a trait common
to the greatest mystics. For them, when they have achieved at last the true theopathetic state, all aspects of the
universe possess equal authority as sacramental declarations of the Presence of God; and their fearless
employment of homely and physical symbols−−often startling and even revolting to the unaccustomed
taste−−is in direct proportion to the exaltation of their spiritual life. The works of the great Sûfîs, and amongst
the Christians of Jacopone da Todì, Ruysbroeck, Boehme, abound in illustrations of this law. Therefore we
must not be surprised to find in Kabîr's songs−−his desperate attempts to communicate his ecstasy and
persuade other men to share it−−a constant juxtaposition of concrete and metaphysical language; swift
alternations between the most intensely anthropomorphic, the most subtly philosophical, ways of
apprehending man's communion with the Divine. The need for this alternation, and its entire naturalness for
the mind which employs it, is rooted in his concept, or vision, of the Nature of God; and unless we make some
attempt to grasp this, we shall not go far in our understanding of his poems.
Kabîr belongs to that small group of supreme mystics−−amongst whom St. Augustine, Ruysbroeck, and the
Sûfî poet Jalâlu'ddîn Rûmî are perhaps the chief−−who have achieved that which we might call the synthetic
Songs of Kabir 5
vision of God. These have resolved the perpetual opposition between the personal and impersonal, the
transcendent and immanent, static and dynamic aspects of the Divine Nature; between the Absolute of
philosophy and the "sure true Friend" of devotional religion. They have done this, not by taking these
apparently incompatible concepts one after the other; but by ascending to a height of spiritual intuition at
which they are, as Ruysbroeck said, "melted and merged in the Unity," and perceived as the completing
opposites of a perfect Whole. This proceeding entails for them−−and both Kabîr and Ruysbroeck expressly
acknowledge it−−a universe of three orders: Becoming, Being, and that which is "More than Being," i.e., God.
[Footnote: Nos. VII and XLIX.] God is here felt to be not the final abstraction, but the one actuality. He
inspires, supports, indeed inhabits, both the durational, conditioned, finite world of Becoming and the
unconditioned, non−successional, infinite world of Being; yet utterly transcends them both. He is the
omnipresent Reality, the "All−pervading" within Whom "the worlds are being told like beads." In His
personal aspect He is the "beloved Fakir," teaching and companioning each soul. Considered as Immanent
Spirit, He is "the Mind within the mind." But all these are at best partial aspects of His nature, mutually
corrective: as the Persons in the Christian doctrine of the Trinity−−to which this theological diagram bears a
striking resemblance−−represent different and compensating experiences of the Divine Unity within which
they are resumed. As Ruysbroeck discerned a plane of reality upon which "we can speak no more of Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit, but only of One Being, the very substance of the Divine Persons"; so Kabîr says that
"beyond both the limited and the limitless is He, the Pure Being." [Footnote: No. VII.]
Brahma, then, is the Ineffable Fact compared with which "the distinction of the Conditioned from the
Unconditioned is but a word": at once the utterly transcendent One of Absolutist philosophy, and the personal
Lover of the individual soul−− "common to all and special to each," as one Christian mystic has it. The need
felt by Kabîr for both these ways of describing Reality is a proof of the richness and balance of his spiritual
experience; which neither cosmic nor anthropomorphic symbols, taken alone, could express. More absolute
than the Absolute, more personal than the human mind, Brahma therefore exceeds whilst He includes all the
concepts of philosophy, all the passionate intuitions of the heart. He is the Great Affirmation, the font of
energy, the source of life and love, the unique satisfaction of desire. His creative word is the Om or
"Everlasting Yea." The negative philosophy which strips from the Divine Nature all Its attributes and defining
Him only by that which He is not−−reduces Him to an "Emptiness," is abhorrent to this most vital of
poets.−−Brahma, he says, "may never be found in abstractions." He is the One Love who Pervades the world.,
discerned in His fullness only by the eyes of love; and those who know Him thus share, though they may
never tell, the joyous and ineffable secret of the universe. [Footnote: Nos. VII, XXVI, LXXVI, XC.]
Now Kabîr, achieving this synthesis between the personal and cosmic aspects of the Divine Nature, eludes the
three great dangers which threaten mystical religion.
First, he escapes the excessive emotionalism, the tendency to an exclusively anthropomorphic devotion, which
results from an unrestricted cult of Divine Personality, especially under an incarnational form; seen in India in
the exaggerations of Krishna worship, in Europe in the sentimental extravagances of certain Christian saints.
Next, he is protected from the soul−destroying conclusions of pure monism, inevitable if its logical
implications are pressed home: that is, the identity of substance between God and the soul, with its corollary
of the total absorption of that soul in the Being of God as the goal of the spiritual life. For the thorough−going
monist the soul, in so far as it is real, is substantially identical with God; and the true object of existence is the
making patent of this latent identity, the realization which finds expression in the Vedântist formula "That art
thou." But Kabîr says that Brahma and the creature are "ever distinct, yet ever united"; that the wise man
knows the spiritual as well as the material world to "be no more than His footstool." [Footnote: Nos. VII and
IX.] The soul's union with Him is a love union, a mutual inhabitation; that essentially dualistic relation which
all mystical religion expresses, not a self−mergence which leaves no place for personality. This eternal
distinction, the mysterious union−in−separateness of God and the soul, is a necessary doctrine of all sane
mysticism; for no scheme which fails to find a place for it can represent more than a fragment of that soul's
intercourse with the spiritual world. Its affirmation was one of the distinguishing features of the Vaishnavite
Songs of Kabir 6
reformation preached by Râmânuja; the principle of which had descended through Râmânanda to Kabîr.
Last, the warmly human and direct apprehension of God as the supreme Object of love, the soul's comrade,
teacher, and bridegroom, which is so passionately and frequently expressed in Kabîr's poems, balances and
controls those abstract tendencies which are inherent in the metaphysical side of his vision of Reality: and
prevents it from degenerating into that sterile worship of intellectual formulæ which became the curse of the
Vedântist school. For the mere intellectualist, as for the mere pietist, he has little approbation. [Footnote: Cf.
especially Nos. LIX, LXVII, LXXV, XC, XCI.] Love is throughout his "absolute sole Lord": the unique
source of the more abundant life which he enjoys, and the common factor which unites the finite and infinite
worlds. All is soaked in love: that love which he described in almost Johannine language as the "Form of
God." The whole of creation is the Play of the Eternal Lover; the living, changing, growing expression of
Brahma's love and joy. As these twin passions preside over the generation of human life, so "beyond the mists
of pleasure and pain" Kabîr finds them governing the creative acts of God. His manifestation is love; His
activity is joy. Creation springs from one glad act of affirmation: the Everlasting Yea, perpetually uttered
within the depths of the Divine Nature. [Footnote: Nos. XVII, XXVI, LXXVI, LXXXII.] In accordance with
this concept of the universe as a Love−Game which eternally goes forward, a progressive manifestation of
Brahma−−one of the many notions which he adopted from the common stock of Hindu religious ideas, and
illuminated by his poetic genius−−movement, rhythm, perpetual change, forms an integral part of Kabîr's
vision of Reality. Though the Eternal and Absolute is ever present to his consciousness, yet his concept of the
Divine Nature is essentially dynamic. It is by the symbols of motion that he most often tries to convey it to us:
as in his constant reference to dancing, or the strangely modern picture of that Eternal Swing of the Universe
which is "held by the cords of love." [Footnote: No. XVI.]
It is a marked characteristic of mystical literature that the great contemplatives, in their effort to convey to us
the nature of their communion with the supersensuous, are inevitably driven to employ some form of sensuous
imagery: coarse and inaccurate as they know such imagery to be, even at the best. Our normal human
consciousness is so completely committed to dependence on the senses, that the fruits of intuition itself are
instinctively referred to them. In that intuition it seems to the mystics that all the dim cravings and partial
apprehensions of sense find perfect fulfilment. Hence their constant declaration that they see the
uncreated light, they hear the celestial melody, they taste the sweetness of the Lord, they know
an ineffable fragrance, they feel the very contact of love. "Him verily seeing and fully feeling, Him spiritually
hearing and Him delectably smelling and sweetly swallowing," as Julian of Norwich has it. In those amongst
them who develop psycho−sensorial automatisms, these parallels between sense and spirit may present
themselves to consciousness in the form of hallucinations: as the light seen by Suso, the music heard by Rolle,
the celestial perfumes which filled St. Catherine of Siena's cell, the physical wounds felt by St. Francis and St.
Teresa. These are excessive dramatizations of the symbolism under which the mystic tends instinctively to
represent his spiritual intuition to the surface consciousness. Here, in the special sense−perception which he
feels to be most expressive of Reality, his peculiar idiosyncrasies come out.
Now Kabîr, as we might expect in one whose reactions to the spiritual order were so wide and various, uses
by turn all the symbols of sense. He tells us that he has "seen without sight" the effulgence of Brahma, tasted
the divine nectar, felt the ecstatic contact of Reality, smelt the fragrance of the heavenly flowers. But he was
essentially a poet and musician: rhythm and harmony were to him the garments of beauty and truth. Hence in
his lyrics he shows himself to be, like Richard Rolle, above all things a musical mystic. Creation, he says
again and again, is full of music: it is music. At the heart of the Universe "white music is blossoming":
love weaves the melody, whilst renunciation beats the time. It can be heard in the home as well as in the
heavens; discerned by the ears of common men as well as by the trained senses of the ascetic. Moreover, the
body of every man is a lyre on which Brahma, "the source of all music," plays. Everywhere Kabîr discerns the
"Unstruck Music of the Infinite"−−that celestial melody which the angel played to St. Francis, that ghostly
symphony which filled the soul of Rolle with ecstatic joy. [Footnote: Nos. XVII, XVIII, XXXIX, XLI, LIV,
LXXVI, LXXXIII, LXXXIX, XCVII.] The one figure which he adopts from the Hindu Pantheon and
constantly uses, is that of Krishna the Divine Flute Player. [Footnote: Nos. L, LIII, LXVIII.] He sees the
Songs of Kabir 7
supernal music, too, in its visual embodiment, as rhythmical movement: that mysterious dance of the universe
before the face of Brahma, which is at once an act of worship and an expression of the infinite rapture of the
Immanent God.'
Yet in this wide and rapturous vision of the universe Kabîr never loses touch with diurnal existence, never
forgets the common life. His feet are firmly planted upon earth; his lofty and passionate apprehensions are
perpetually controlled by the activity of a sane and vigorous intellect, by the alert commonsense so often
found in persons of real mystical genius. The constant insistence on simplicity and directness, the hatred of all
abstractions and philosophizings,[Footnote: Nos. XXVI, XXXII, LXXVI] the ruthless criticism of external
religion: these are amongst his most marked characteristics. God is the Root whence all manifestations,
"material" and "spiritual," alike proceed; [Footnote: Nos. LXXV, LXXVIII, LXXX, XC.] and God is the only
need of man−−"happiness shall be yours when you come to the Root." [Footnote: No. LXXX.] Hence to those
who keep their eye on the "one thing needful," denominations, creeds, ceremonies, the conclusions of
philosophy, the disciplines of asceticism, are matters of comparative indifference. They represent merely the
different angles from which the soul may approach that simple union with Brahma which is its goal; and are
useful only in so faras they contribute to this consummation. So thorough−going is Kabîr's eclecticism, that he
seems by turns Vedântist and Vaishnavite, Pantheist and Transcendentalist, Brâhman and Sûfî. In the effort to
tell the truth about that ineffable apprehension, so vast and yet so near, which controls his life, he seizes and
twines together−−as he might have woven together contrasting threads upon his loom−−symbols and ideas
drawn from the most violent and conflicting philosophies and faiths. All are needed, if he is ever to suggest
the character of that One whom the Upanishad called "the Sun−coloured Being who is beyond this Darkness":
as all the colours of the spectrum are needed if we would demonstrate the simple richness of white light. In
thus adapting traditional materials to his own use he follows a method common amongst the mystics; who
seldom exhibit any special love for originality of form. They will pour their wine into almost any vessel that
comes to hand: generally using by preference−−and lifting to new levels of beauty and significance−−the
religious or philosophic formulæ current in their own day. Thus we find that some of Kabîr's finest poems
have as their subjects the commonplaces of Hindu philosophy and religion: the Lîlâ or Sport of God, the
Ocean of Bliss, the Bird of the Soul, Mâyâ, the Hundred− petalled Lotus, and the "Formless Form." Many,
again, are soaked in Sûfî imagery and feeling. Others use as their material the ordinary surroundings and
incidents of Indian life: the temple bells, the ceremony of the lamps, marriage, suttee, pilgrimage, the
characters of the seasons; all felt by him in their mystical aspect, as sacraments of the soul's relation with
Brahma. In many of these a particularly beautiful and intimate feeling for Nature is shown. [Footnote: Nos.
XV, XXIII, LXVII, LXXXVII, XCVII.]
In the collection of songs here translated there will be found examples which illustrate nearly every aspect of
Kabîr's thought, and all the fluctuations of the mystic's emotion: the ecstasy, the despair, the still beatitude, the
eager self−devotion, the flashes of wide illumination, the moments of intimate love. His wide and deep vision
of the universe, the "Eternal Sport" of creation (LXXXII), the worlds being "told like beads" within the Being
of God (XIV, XVI, XVII, LXXVI), is here seen balanced by his lovely and delicate sense of intimate
communion with the Divine Friend, Lover, Teacher of the soul (X, XI, XXIII, XXXV, LI, LXXXV,
LXXXVI, LXXXVIII, XCII, XCIII; above all, the beautiful poem XXXIV). As these apparently paradoxical
views of Reality are resolved in Brâhma, so all other opposites are reconciled in Him: bondage and liberty,
love and renunciation, pleasure and pain (XVII, XXV, XL, LXXIX). Union with Him is the one thing that
matters to the soul, its destiny and its need (LI, I, II, LIV, LXX, LXXIV, XCIII, XCVI); and this union, this
discovery of God, is the simplest and most natural of all things, if we would but grasp it (XLI, XLVI, LVI,
LXXII, LXXVI, LXXVIII, XCVII). The union, however, is brought about by love, not by knowledge or
ceremonial observances (XXXVIII, LIV, LV, LIX, XCI); and the apprehension which that union confers is
ineffable−−"neither This nor That," as Ruysbroeck has it (IX, XLVI, LXXVI). Real worship and communion
is in Spirit and in Truth (XL, XLI, LVI, LXIII, LXV, LXX), therefore idolatry is an insult to the Divine Lover
(XLII, LXIX) and the devices of professional sanctity are useless apart from charity and purity of soul (LIV,
LXV, LXVI). Since all things, and especially the heart of man, are God−inhabited, God−possessed (XXVI,
LVI, LXXVI, LXXXIX, XCVII), He may best be found in the here−and−now: in the normal. human, bodily
Songs of Kabir 8
existence, the "mud" of material life (III, IV, VI, XXI, XXXIX, XL, XLIII, XLVIII, LXXII). "We can reach
the goal without crossing the road" (LXXVI)−−not the cloister but the home is the proper theatre of man's
efforts: and if he cannot find God there, he need not hope for success by going farther afield. "In the home is
reality." There love and detachment, bondage and freedom, joy and pain play by turns upon the soul; and it is
from their conflict that the Unstruck Music of the Infinite proceeds. Kabîr says: "None but Brahma can evoke
its melodies."
"This version of Kabîr's songs is chiefly the work of Mr. Rabîndranâth Tagore, the trend of whose mystical
genius makes him−−as all who read these poems will see−−a peculiarly sympathetic interpreter of Kabîr's
vision and thought. It has been based upon the printed Hindî text with Bengali translation of Mr. Kshiti
Mohan Sen; who has gathered from many sources−− sometimes from books and manuscripts, sometimes from
the lips of wandering ascetics and minstrels−−a large collection of poems and hymns to which Kabîr's name is
attached, and carefully sifted the authentic songs from the many spurious works now attributed to him. These
painstaking labours alone have made the present undertaking possible.
We have also had before us a manuscript English translation of 116 songs made by Mr. Ajit Kumâr
Chakravarty from Mr. Kshiti Mohan Sen's text, and a prose essay upon Kabîr from the same hand. From these
we have derived great assistance. A considerable number of readings from the translation have been adopted
by us; whilst several of the facts mentioned in the essay have been incorporated into this introduction. Our
most grateful thanks are due to Mr. Ajit Kumar Chakravarty for the extremely generous and unselfish manner
in which he has placed his work at our disposal.
E. U.
The reference of the headlines of the poems is to:
Sântiniketana; Kabîr by Srî Kshitimohan Sen, 4 parts, Brahmacharyâsrama, Bolpur, 1910−1911.
For some assistance in normalizing the transliteration we are indebted to Professor J. F. Blumhardt.
KABIR'S POEMS
I. 13. mo ko kahân dhûnro bande
O servant, where dost thou seek Me? Lo! I am beside thee. I am neither in temple nor in mosque: I am neither
in Kaaba nor in Kailash: Neither am I in rites and ceremonies, nor in Yoga and renunciation. If thou art a true
seeker, thou shalt at once see Me: thou shalt meet Me in a moment of time. Kabîr says, "O Sadhu! God is the
breath of all breath."
II
I. 16. Santan jât na pûcho nirguniyân
It is needless to ask of a saint the caste to which he belongs; For the priest, the warrior. the tradesman, and all
the thirty−six castes, alike are seeking for God. It is but folly to ask what the caste of a saint may be; The
barber has sought God, the washerwoman, and the carpenter−− Even Raidas was a seeker after God. The
Rishi Swapacha was a tanner by caste. Hindus and Moslems alike have achieved that End, where remains no
mark of distinction.
III
Songs of Kabir 9
I. 57. sâdho bhâî, jîval hî karo âs'â
O friend! hope for Him whilst you live, know whilst you live, understand whilst you live: for in life
deliverance abides. If your bonds be not broken whilst living, what hope of deliverance in death? It is but an
empty dream, that the soul shall have union with Him because it has passed from the body: If He is found
now, He is found then, If not, we do but go to dwell in the City of Death. If you have union now, you shall
have it hereafter. Bathe in the truth, know the true Guru, have faith in the true Name! Kabîr says: "It is the
Spirit of the quest which helps; I am the slave of this Spirit of the quest."
IV
I. 58. bâgo nâ jâ re nâ jâ
Do not go to the garden of flowers! O Friend! go not there; In your body is the garden of flowers. Take your
seat on the thousand petals of the lotus, and there gaze on the Infinite Beauty.
I. 63. avadhû, mâyâ tajî na jây
Tell me, Brother, how can I renounce Maya? When I gave up the tying of ribbons, still I tied my garment
about me: When I gave up tying my garment, still I covered my body in its folds. So, when I give up passion,
I see that anger remains; And when I renounce anger, greed is with me still; And when greed is vanquished,
pride and vainglory remain; When the mind is detached and casts Maya away, still it clings to the letter. Kabîr
says, "Listen to me, dear Sadhu! the true path is rarely found."
VI
I. 83. candâ jhalkai yahi ghat mâhîn
The moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it: The moon is within me, and so is the sun. The
unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf ears cannot hear it.
So long as man clamours for the I and the Mine, his works are as naught: When all love of the
I and the Mine is dead, then the work of the Lord is done. For work has no other aim than the
getting of knowledge: When that comes, then work is put away.
The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower withers. The musk is in the deer, but it seeks
it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass.
VII
I. 85. Sâdho, Brahm alakh lakhâyâ
When He Himself reveals Himself, Brahma brings into manifestation That which can never be seen. As the
seed is in the plant, as the shade is in the tree, as the void is in the sky, as infinite forms are in the void−− So
from beyond the Infinite, the Infinite comes; and from the Infinite the finite extends.
The creature is in Brahma, and Brahma is in the creature: they are ever distinct, yet ever united. He Himself is
the tree, the seed, and the germ. He Himself is the flower, the fruit, and the shade. He Himself is the sun, the
light, and the lighted. He Himself is Brahma, creature, and Maya. He Himself is the manifold form, the
infinite space; He is the breath, the word, and the meaning. He Himself is the limit and the limitless: and
Songs of Kabir 10
beyond both the limited and the limitless is He, the Pure Being. He is the Immanent Mind in Brahma and in
the creature.
The Supreme Soul is seen within the soul, The Point is seen within the Supreme Soul, And within the Point,
the reflection is seen again. Kabîr is blest because he has this supreme vision!
VIII
I. 101. is ghat antar bâg bagîce
Within this earthen vessel are bowers and groves, and within it is the Creator: Within this vessel are the seven
oceans and the unnumbered stars. The touchstone and the jewel−appraiser are within; And within this vessel
the Eternal soundeth, and the spring wells up. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, my Friend! My beloved Lord is
within."
IX
I. 104. aisâ lo nahîn taisâ lo
O How may I ever express that secret word? O how can I say He is not like this, and He is like that? If I say
that He is within me, the universe is ashamed: If I say that He is without me, it is falsehood. He makes the
inner and the outer worlds to be indivisibly one; The conscious and the unconscious, both are His footstools.
He is neither manifest nor hidden, He is neither revealed nor unrevealed: There are no words to tell that which
He is.
I. 121. tohi mori lagan lagâye re phakîr wâ
To Thee Thou hast drawn my love, O Fakir! I was sleeping in my own chamber, and Thou didst awaken me;
striking me with Thy voice, O Fakir! I was drowning in the deeps of the ocean of this world, and Thou didst
save me: upholding me with Thine arm, O Fakir! Only one word and no second−−and Thou hast made me
tear off all my bonds, O Fakir! Kabîr says, "Thou hast united Thy heart to my heart, O Fakir!"
XI
I. 131. nis' din khelat rahî sakhiyân sang
I played day and night with my comrades, and now I am greatly afraid. So high is my Lord's palace, my heart
trembles to mount its stairs: yet I must not be shy, if I would enjoy His love. My heart must cleave to my
Lover; I must withdraw my veil, and meet Him with all my body: Mine eyes must perform the ceremony of
the lamps of love. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, friend: he understands who loves. If you feel not love's longing
for your Beloved One, it is vain to adorn your body, vain to put unguent on your eyelids."
XII
II. 24. hamsâ, kaho purâtan vât
Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale. From what land do you come, O Swan? to what shore will you fly? Where
would you take your rest, O Swan, and what do you seek?
Songs of Kabir 11
Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me! There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
where the terror of Death is no more. There the woods of spring are a−bloom, and the fragrant scent "He is I"
is borne on the wind: There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed, and desires no other joy.
XIII
II. 37. angadhiyâ devâ
O Lord Increate, who will serve Thee? Every votary offers his worship to the God of his own creation: each
day he receives service−− None seek Him, the Perfect: Brahma, the Indivisible Lord. They believe in ten
Avatars; but no Avatar can be the Infinite Spirit, for he suffers the results of his deeds: The Supreme One
must be other than this. The Yogi, the Sanyasi, the Ascetics, are disputing one with another: Kabîr says, "O
brother! he who has seen that radiance of love, he is saved."
XIV
II. 56. dariyâ kî lahar dariyâo hai jî
The river and its waves are one surf: where is the difference between the river and its waves? When the wave
rises, it is the water; and when it falls, it is the same water again. Tell me, Sir, where is the distinction?
Because it has been named as wave, shall it no longer be considered as water?
Within the Supreme Brahma, the worlds are being told like beads: Look upon that rosary with the eyes of
wisdom.
XV
II. 57. jânh khelat vasant riturâj
Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth, there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself, There the streams
of light flow in all directions; Few are the men who can cross to that shore! There, where millions of Krishnas
stand with hands folded, Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads, Where millions of Brahmâs are reading
the Vedas, Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation, Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
Where the demi−gods and the munis are unnumbered, Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play
on the vina−− There is my Lord self−revealed: and the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps.
XVI
II. 59. jânh, cet acet khambh dôû
Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the mind made a swing: Thereon hang all
beings and all worlds, and that swing never ceases its sway. Millions of beings are there: the sun and the moon
in their courses are there: Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on. All swing! the sky and the earth and
the air and the water; and the Lord Himself taking form: And the sight of this has made Kabîr a servant.
XVII
II. 61. grah candra tapan jot varat hai
The light of the sun, the moon, and the stars shines bright: The melody of love swells forth, and the rhythm of
love's detachment beats the time. Day and night, the chorus of music fills the heavens; and Kabîr says "My
Beloved One gleams like the lightning flash in the sky."
Songs of Kabir 12
Do you know how the moments perform their adoration? Waving its row of lamps, the universe sings in
worship day and night, There are the hidden banner and the secret canopy: There the sound of the unseen bells
is heard. Kabîr says: "There adoration never ceases; there the Lord of the Universe sitteth on His throne." The
whole world does its works and commits its errors: but few are the lovers who know the Beloved. The devout
seeker is he who mingles in his heart the double currents of love and detachment, like the mingling of the
streams of Ganges and Jumna; In his heart the sacred water flows day and night; and thus the round of births
and deaths is brought to an end.
Behold what wonderful rest is in the Supreme Spirit! and he enjoys it, who makes himself meet for it. Held by
the cords of love, the swing of the Ocean of Joy sways to and fro; and a mighty sound breaks forth in song.
See what a lotus blooms there without water! and Kabîr says "My heart's bee drinks its nectar." What a
wonderful lotus it is, that blooms at the heart of the spinning wheel of the universe! Only a few pure souls
know of its true delight. Music is all around it, and there the heart partakes of the joy of the Infinite Sea. Kabîr
says: "Dive thou into that Ocean of sweetness: thus let all errors of life and of death flee away."
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
Songs of Kabir 13
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
O my heart! the Supreme Spirit, the great Master, is near you: wake, oh wake! Run to the feet of your
Beloved: for your Lord stands near to your head. You have slept for unnumbered ages; this morning will you
not wake?
XX
II. 22. man tu pâr utar kânh jaiho
To what shore would you cross, O my heart? there is no traveller before you, there is no road: Where is the
movement, where is the rest, on that shore? There is no water; no boat, no boatman, is there; There is not so
much as a rope to tow the boat, nor a man to draw it. No earth, no sky, no time, no thing, is there: no shore, no
ford! There, there is neither body nor mind: and where is the place that shall still the thirst of the soul? You
shall find naught in that emptiness. Be strong, and enter into your own body: for there your foothold is firm.
Consider it well, O my heart! go not elsewhere, Kabîr says: "Put all imaginations away, and stand fast in that
which you are."
XXI
II. 33. ghar ghar dîpak barai
Lamps burn in every house, O blind one! and you cannot see them. One day your eyes shall suddenly be
opened, and you shall see: and the fetters of death will fall from you. There is nothing to say or to hear, there
is nothing to do: it is he who is living, yet dead, who shall never die again.
Because he lives in solitude, therefore the Yogi says that his home is far away. Your Lord is near: yet you are
climbing the palm−tree to seek Him. The Brâhman priest goes from house to house and initiates people into
faith: Alas! the true fountain of life is beside you., and you have set up a stone to worship. Kabîr says: "I may
never express how sweet my Lord is. Yoga and the telling of beads, virtue and vice−−these are naught to
Him."
XXII
II. 38. Sâdho, so satgur mohi bhâwai

Songs of Kabir 14
O brother, my heart yearns for that true Guru, who fills the cup of true love, and drinks of it himself, and
offers it then to me. He removes the veil from the eyes, and gives the true Vision of Brahma: He reveals the
worlds in Him, and makes me to hear the Unstruck Music: He shows joy and sorrow to be one: He fills all
utterance with love. Kabîr says: "Verily he has no fear, who has such a Guru to lead him to the shelter of
safety!"
XXIII
II. 40. tinwir sâñjh kâ gahirâ âwai
The shadows of evening fall thick and deep, and the darkness of love envelops the body and the mind. Open
the window to the west, and be lost in the sky of love; Drink the sweet honey that steeps the petals of the lotus
of the heart. Receive the waves in your body: what splendour is in the region of the sea! Hark! the sounds of
conches and bells are rising. Kabîr says: "O brother, behold! the Lord is in this vessel of my body."
XXIV
II. 48. jis se rahani apâr jagat men
More than all else do I cherish at heart that love which makes me to live a limitless life in this world. It is like
the lotus, which lives in the water and blooms in the water: yet the water cannot touch its petals, they open
beyond its reach. It is like a wife, who enters the fire at the bidding of love. She burns and lets others grieve,
yet never dishonours love. This ocean of the world is hard to cross: its waters are very deep. Kabîr says:
"Listen to me, O Sadhu! few there are who have reached its end."
XXV
II. 45. Hari ne apnâ âp chipâyâ
My Lord hides Himself, and my Lord wonderfully reveals Himself: My Lord has encompassed me with
hardness, and my Lord has cast down my limitations. My Lord brings to me words of sorrow and words of
joy, and He Himself heals their strife. I will offer my body and mind to my Lord: I will give up my life, but
never can I forget my Lord!
XXVI
II. 75. ônkâr siwae kôî sirjai
All things are created by the Om; The love−form is His body. He is without form, without quality, without
decay: Seek thou union with Him! But that formless God takes a thousand forms in the eyes of His creatures:
He is pure and indestructible, His form is infinite and fathomless, He dances in rapture, and waves of form
arise from His dance. The body and the mind cannot contain themselves, when they are touched by His great
joy. He is immersed in all consciousness, all joys, and all sorrows; He has no beginning and no end; He holds
all within His bliss.
XXVII
II. 81. satgur sôî dayâ kar dînhâ
It is the mercy of my true Guru that has made me to know the unknown; I have learned from Him how to walk
without feet, to see without eyes, to hear without ears, to drink without mouth, to fly without wings; I have
brought my love and my meditation into the land where there is no sun and moon, nor day and night. Without
Songs of Kabir 15
eating, I have tasted of the sweetness of nectar; and without water, I have quenched my thirst. Where there is
the response of delight, there is the fullness of joy. Before whom can that joy be uttered? Kabîr says: "The
Guru is great beyond words, and great is the good fortune of the disciple."
XXVIII
II. 85. nirgun âge sargun nâcai
Before the Unconditioned, the Conditioned dances: "Thou and I are one!" this trumpet proclaims. The Guru
comes, and bows down before the disciple: This is the greatest of wonders.
XXIX
II. 87. Kabîr kab se bhaye vairâgî
Gorakhnath asks Kabîr: "Tell me, O Kabîr, when did your vocation begin? Where did your love have its rise?"
Kabîr answers: "When He whose forms are manifold had not begun His play: when there was no Guru, and no
disciple: when the world was not spread out: when the Supreme One was alone−− Then I became an ascetic;
then, O Gorakh, my love was drawn to Brahma. Brahma did not hold the crown on his head; the god Vishnu
was not anointed as king; the power of Shiva was still unborn; when I was instructed in Yoga.
I became suddenly revealed in Benares, and Râmânanda illumined me; I brought with me the thirst for the
Infinite, and I have come for the meeting with Him. In simplicity will I unite with the Simple One; my love
will surge up. O Gorakh, march thou with His music!"
XXX
II. 95. yâ tarvar men ek pakherû
On this tree is a bird: it dances in the joy of life. None knows where it is: and who knows what the burden of
its music may be? Where the branches throw a deep shade, there does it have its nest: and it comes in the
evening and flies away in the morning, and says not a word of that which it means. None tell me of this bird
that sings within me. It is neither coloured nor colourless: it has neither form nor outline: It sits in the shadow
of love. It dwells within the Unattainable, the Infinite, and the Eternal; and no one marks when it comes and
goes. Kabîr says: "O brother Sadhu! deep is the mystery. Let wise men seek to know where rests that bird."
XXXI
II. 100. nis` din sâlai ghâw
A sore pain troubles me day and night, and I cannot sleep; I long for the meeting with my Beloved, and my
father's house gives me pleasure no more. The gates of the sky are opened, the temple is revealed: I meet my
husband, and leave at His feet the offering of my body and my mind.
XXXII
II. 103. nâco re mero man, matta hoy
Dance, my heart! dance to−day with joy. The strains of love fill the days and the nights with music, and the
world is listening to its melodies: Mad with joy, life and death dance to the rhythm of this music. The hills and
the sea and the earth dance. The world of man dances in laughter and tears. Why put on the robe of the monk,
and live aloof from the world in lonely pride? Behold! my heart dances in the delight of a hundred arts; and
Songs of Kabir 16
the Creator is well pleased.
XXXIII
II. 105. man mast huâ tab kyon bole
Where is the need of words, when love has made drunken the heart? I have wrapped the diamond in my cloak;
why open it again and again? When its load was light, the pan of the balance went up: now it is full, where is
the need for weighing? The swan has taken its flight to the lake beyond the mountains; why should it search
for the pools and ditches any more? Your Lord dwells within you: why need your outward eyes be opened?
Kabîr says: "Listen, my brother! my Lord, who ravishes my eyes, has united Himself with me."
XXXIV
II. 110. mohi tohi lâgî kaise chute
How could the love between Thee and me sever? As the leaf of the lotus abides on the water: so thou art my
Lord, and I am Thy servant. As the night−bird Chakor gazes all night at the moon: so Thou art my Lord and I
am Thy servant. From the beginning until the ending of time, there is love between Thee and me; and how
shall such love be extinguished? Kabîr says: "As the river enters into the ocean, so my heart touches Thee."
XXXV
II. 113. vâlam, âwo hamâre geh re
My body and my mind are grieved for the want of Thee; O my Beloved! come to my house. When people say
I am Thy bride, I am ashamed; for I have not touched Thy heart with my heart. Then what is this love of
mine? I have no taste for food, I have no sleep; my heart is ever restless within doors and without. As water is
to the thirsty, so is the lover to the bride. Who is there that will carry my news to my Beloved? Kabîr is
restless: he is dying for sight of Him.
XXXVI
II. 126. jâg piyârî, ab kân sowai
O friend, awake, and sleep no more! The night is over and gone, would you lose your day also? Others, who
have wakened, have received jewels; O foolish woman! you have lost all whilst you slept. Your lover is wise,
and you are foolish, O woman! You never prepared the bed of your husband: O mad one! you passed your
time in silly play. Your youth was passed in vain, for you did not know your Lord; Wake, wake! See! your
bed is empty: He left you in the night. Kabîr says: "Only she wakes, whose heart is pierced with the arrow of
His music."
XXXVII
I. 36. sûr parkâs', tanh rain kahân pâïye
Where is the night, when the sun is shining? If it is night, then the sun withdraws its light. Where knowledge
is, can ignorance endure? If there be ignorance, then knowledge must die. If there be lust, how can love be
there? Where there is love, there is no lust.
Lay hold on your sword, and join in the fight. Fight, O my brother, as long as life lasts. Strike off your
enemy's head, and there make an end of him quickly: then come, and bow your head at your King's Durbar.
Songs of Kabir 17
He who is brave, never forsakes the battle: he who flies from it is no true fighter. In the field of this body a
great war goes forward, against passion, anger, pride, and greed: It is in the kingdom of truth, contentment and
purity, that this battle is raging; and the sword that rings forth most loudly is the sword of His Name. Kabîr
says: "When a brave knight takes the field, a host of cowards is put to flight. It is a hard fight and a weary one,
this fight of the truth−seeker: for the vow of the truth−seeker is more hard than that of the warrior, or of the
widowed wife who would follow her husband. For the warrior fights for a few hours, and the widow's struggle
with death is soon ended: But the truth−seeker's battle goes on day and night, as long as life lasts it never
ceases."
XXXVIII
I. 50. bhram kâ tâlâ lagâ mahal re
The lock of error shuts the gate, open it with the key of love: Thus, by opening the door, thou shalt wake the
Beloved. Kabîr says: "O brother! do not pass by such good fortune as this."
XXXIX
I. 59. sâdho, yah tan thâth tanvure ka
O friend! this body is His lyre; He tightens its strings, and draws from it the melody of Brahma. If the strings
snap and the keys slacken, then to dust must this instrument of dust return: Kabîr says: "None but Brahma can
evoke its melodies."
XL
I. 65. avadhû bhûle ko ghar lâwe
He is dear to me indeed who can call back the wanderer to his home. In the home is the true union, in the
home is enjoyment of life: why should I forsake my home and wander in the forest? If Brahma helps me to
realize truth, verily I will find both bondage and deliverance in home. He is dear to me indeed who has power
to dive deep into Brahma; whose mind loses itself with ease in His contemplation. He is dear to me who
knows Brahma, and can dwell on His supreme truth in meditation; and who can play the melody of the
Infinite by uniting love and renunciation in life. Kabîr says: "The home is the abiding place; in the home is
reality; the home helps to attain Him Who is real. So stay where you are, and all things shall come to you in
time."
XLI
I. 76. santo, sahaj samâdh bhalî
O sadhu! the simple union is the best. Since the day when I met with my Lord, there has been no end to the
sport of our love. I shut not my eyes, I close not my ears, I do not mortify my body; I see with eyes open and
smile, and behold His beauty everywhere: I utter His Name, and whatever I see, it reminds me of Him;
whatever I do., it becomes His worship. The rising and the setting are one to me; all contradictions are solved.
Wherever I go, I move round Him, All I achieve is His service: When I lie down, I lie prostrate at His feet.
He is the only adorable one to me: I have none other. My tongue has left off impure words, it sings His glory
day and night: Whether I rise or sit down, I can never forget Him; for the rhythm of His music beats in my
ears. Kabîr says: "My heart is frenzied, and I disclose in my soul what is hidden. I am immersed in that one
great bliss which transcends all pleasure and pain."
Songs of Kabir 18
XLII
I. 79. tîrath men to sab pânî hai
There is nothing but water at the holy bathing places; and I know that they are useless, for I have bathed in
them. The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak; I know, for I have cried aloud to them. The Purana and
the Koran are mere words; lifting up the curtain, I have seen. Kabîr gives utterance to the words of
experience; and he knows very well that all other things are untrue.
XLIII
I. 82. pânî vic mîn piyâsî
I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty: You do not see that the Real is in your home, and you
wander from forest to forest listlessly! Here is the truth! Go where you will, to Benares or to Mathura; if you
do not find your soul, the world is unreal to you.
XLIV
I. 93. gagan math gaib nisân gade
The Hidden Banner is planted in the temple of the sky; there the blue canopy decked with the moon and set
with bright jewels is spread. There the light of the sun and the moon is shining: still your mind to silence
before that splendour. Kabîr says: "He who has drunk of this nectar, wanders like one who is mad."
XLV
I. 97. sâdho, ko hai kânh se âyo
Who are you, and whence do you come? Where dwells that Supreme Spirit, and how does He have His sport
with all created things? The fire is in the wood; but who awakens it suddenly? Then it turns to ashes, and
where goes the force of the fire? The true guru teaches that He has neither limit nor infinitude. Kabîr says:
"Brahma suits His language to the understanding of His hearer."
XLVI
I. 98. sâdho, sahajai kâyâ s'odho
O sadhu! purify your body in the simple way. As the seed is within the banyan tree, and within the seed are
the flowers, the fruits, and the shade: So the germ is within the body, and within that germ is the body again.
The fire, the air, the water, the earth, and the aether; you cannot have these outside of Him. O, Kazi, O Pundit,
consider it well: what is there that is not in the soul? The water−filled pitcher is placed upon water, it has
water within and without. It should not be given a name, lest it call forth the error of dualism. Kabîr says:
"Listen to the Word, the Truth, which is your essence. He speaks the Word to Himself; and He Himself is the
Creator."
XLVII
I. 102. tarvar ek mûl vin thâdâ
There is a strange tree, which stands without roots and bears fruits without blossoming; It has no branches and
no leaves, it is lotus all over. Two birds sing there; one is the Guru, and the other the disciple: The disciple
Songs of Kabir 19
chooses the manifold fruits of life and tastes them, and the Guru beholds him in joy. What Kabîr says is hard
to understand: "The bird is beyond seeking, yet it is most clearly visible. The Formless is in the midst of all
forms. I sing the glory of forms."
XLVIII
I. 107. calat mansâ acal kînhî
I have stilled my restless mind, and my heart is radiant: for in Thatness I have seen beyond That−ness. In
company I have seen the Comrade Himself. Living in bondage, I have set myself free: I have broken away
from the clutch of all narrowness. Kabîr says: "I have attained the unattainable, and my heart is coloured with
the colour of love."
XLIX
I. 105. jo dîsai, so to hai nâhîn
That which you see is not: and for that which is, you have no words. Unless you see, you believe not: what is
told you you cannot accept. He who is discerning knows by the word; and the ignorant stands gaping. Some
contemplate the Formless, and others meditate on form: but the wise man knows that Brahma is beyond both.
That beauty of His is not seen of the eye: that metre of His is not heard of the ear. Kabîr says: "He who has
found both love and renunciation never descends to death."
I. 126. muralî bajat akhand sadâye
The flute of the Infinite is played without ceasing, and its sound is love: When love renounces all limits, it
reaches truth. How widely the fragrance spreads! It has no end, nothing stands in its way. The form of this
melody is bright like a million suns: incomparably sounds the vina, the vina of the notes of truth.
LI
I. 129. sakhiyo, ham hûn bhâî vâlamâs'î
Dear friend, I am eager to meet my Beloved! My youth has flowered, and the pain of separation from Him
troubles my breast. I am wandering yet in the alleys of knowledge without purpose, but I have received His
news in these alleys of knowledge. I have a letter from my Beloved: in this letter is an unutterable message,
and now my fear of death is done away. Kabîr says: "O my loving friend! I have got for my gift the Deathless
One."
LII
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
Songs of Kabir 20
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
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
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
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
Songs of Kabir 21
I. 63. pîle pyâlâ, ho matwâlâ
Empty the Cup! O be drunken! Drink the divine nectar of His Name! Kabîr says: "Listen to me, dear Sadhu!
From the sole of the foot to the crown of the head this mind is filled with poison."
LIX
I. 52. khasm na cînhai bâwari
O man, if thou dost not know thine own Lord, whereof art thou so proud? Put thy cleverness away: mere
words shall never unite thee to Him. Do not deceive thyself with the witness of the Scriptures: Love is
something other than this, and he who has sought it truly has found it.
LX
I. 56. sukh sindh kî sair kâ
The savour of wandering in the ocean of deathless life has rid me of all my asking: As the tree is in the seed,
so all diseases are in this asking.
LXI
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: 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."
LXII
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?
LXIII
I. 39. are man, dhîraj kâhe na dharai
Why so impatient, my heart? He who watches over birds, beasts, and insects, 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.
LXIV
I. 117. sâîn se lagan kathin hai, bhâî

Songs of Kabir 22
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. 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.
LXV
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: 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."
LXVI
I. 20. man na rangâye
The Yogi dyes his garments, instead of dyeing his mind in the colours of love: 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!"
LXVII
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 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?
LXVIII
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: There the hidden banners are fluttering in the air. Kabîr says: "My heart is dying, though it lives."
LXIX
III. 2. jo khodâ masjid vasat hai

Songs of Kabir 23
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.
LXX
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."
LXXI
III. 13. sâdh sangat pîtam
Go thou to the company of the good, where the Beloved One has His dwelling place: Take all thy thoughts
and love and instruction from thence. Let that assembly be burnt to ashes where His Name is not spoken! Tell
me, how couldst thou hold a wedding−feast, if the bridegroom himself were not there? Waver no more, think
only of the Beloved; Set not thy heart on the worship of other gods, there is no worth in the worship of other
masters. Kabîr deliberates and says: "Thus thou shalt never find the Beloved!"
LXXII
III. 26. tor hîrâ hirâilwâ kîcad men
The jewel is lost in the mud, and all are seeking for it; Some look for it in the east, and some in the west; some
in the water and some amongst stones. But the servant Kabîr has appraised it at its true value, and has
wrapped it with care in the end of the mantle of his heart.
LXXIII
III. 26. âyau din gaune kâ ho
The palanquin came to take me away to my husband's home, and it sent through my heart a thrill of joy; But
the bearers have brought me into the lonely forest, where I have no one of my own. O bearers, I entreat you by
your feet, wait but a moment longer: let me go back to my kinsmen and friends, and take my leave of them.
The servant Kabîr sings: "O Sadhu! finish your buying and selling, have done with your good and your bad:
for there are no markets and no shops in the land to which you go."
LXXIV
III. 30. are dil, prem nagar kä ant na pâyâ
O my heart! you have not known all the secrets of this city of love: in ignorance you came, and in ignorance
you return. O my friend, what have you done with this life? You have taken on your head the burden heavy
with stones, and who is to lighten it for you? Your Friend stands on the other shore, but you never think in
your mind how you may meet with Him: The boat is broken, and yet you sit ever upon the bank; and thus you
Songs of Kabir 24
are beaten to no purpose by the waves. The servant Kabîr asks you to consider; who is there that shall befriend
you at the last? You are alone, you have no companion: you will suffer the consequences of your own deeds.
LXXV
III. 55. ved kahe sargun ke âge
The Vedas say that the Unconditioned stands beyond the world of Conditions. O woman, what does it avail
thee to dispute whether He is beyond all or in all? See thou everything as thine own dwelling place: the mist
of pleasure and pain can never spread there. There Brahma is revealed day and night: there light is His
garment, light is His seat, light rests on thy head. Kabîr says: "The Master, who is true, He is all light."
LXXVI
III. 48. tû surat nain nihâr
Open your eyes of love, and see Him who pervades this world I consider it well, and know that this is your
own country. When you meet the true Guru, He will awaken your heart; He will tell you the secret of love and
detachment, and then you will know indeed that He transcends this universe. This world is the City of Truth,
its maze of paths enchants the heart: We can reach the goal without crossing the road, such is the sport
unending. Where the ring of manifold joys ever dances about Him, there is the sport of Eternal Bliss. When
we know this, then all our receiving and renouncing is over; Thenceforth the heat of having shall never scorch
us more.
He is the Ultimate Rest unbounded: He has spread His form of love throughout all the world. From that Ray
which is Truth, streams of new forms are perpetually springing: and He pervades those forms. All the gardens
and groves and bowers are abounding with blossom; and the air breaks forth into ripples of joy. There the
swan plays a wonderful game, There the Unstruck Music eddies around the Infinite One; There in the midst
the Throne of the Unheld is shining, whereon the great Being sits−− Millions of suns are shamed by the
radiance of a single hair of His body. On the harp of the road what true melodies are being sounded! and its
notes pierce the heart: There the Eternal Fountain is playing its endless life−streams of birth and death. They
call Him Emptiness who is the Truth of truths, in Whom all truths are stored!
There within Him creation goes forward, which is beyond all philosophy; for philosophy cannot attain to Him:
There is an endless world, O my Brother! and there is the Nameless Being, of whom naught can be said. Only
he knows it who has reached that region: it is other than all that is heard and said. No form, no body, no
length, no breadth is seen there: how can I tell you that which it is? He comes to the Path of the Infinite on
whom the grace of the Lord descends: he is freed from births and deaths who attains to Him. Kabîr says: "It
cannot be told by the words of the mouth, it cannot be written on paper: It is like a dumb person who tastes a
sweet thing−−how shall it be explained?"
LXXVII
III. 60. cal hamsâ wâ des' jahân
O my heart! let us go to that country where dwells the Beloved, the ravisher of my heart! There Love is filling
her pitcher from the well, yet she has no rope wherewith to draw water; There the clouds do not cover the sky,
yet the rain falls down in gentle showers: O bodiless one! do not sit on your doorstep; go forth and bathe
yourself in that rain! There it is ever moonlight and never dark; and who speaks of one sun only? that land is
illuminate with the rays of a million suns.
LXXVIII
Songs of Kabir 25
III. 63. kahain Kabîr, s'uno ho sâdho
Kabîr says: "O Sadhu! hear my deathless words. If you want your own good, examine and consider them well.
You have estranged yourself from the Creator, of whom you have sprung: you have lost your reason, you have
bought death. All doctrines and all teachings are sprung from Him, from Him they grow: know this for
certain, and have no fear. Hear from me the tidings of this great truth! Whose name do you sing, and on whom
do you meditate? O, come forth from this entanglement! He dwells at the heart of all things, so why take
refuge in empty desolation? If you place the Guru at a distance from you, then it is but the distance that you
honour: If indeed the Master be far away, then who is it else that is creating this world? When you think that
He is not here, then you wander further and further away, and seek Him in vain with tears. Where He is far
off, there He is unattainable: where He is near, He is very bliss. Kabîr says: "Lest His servant should suffer
pain He pervades him through and through." Know yourself then, O Kabîr; for He is in you from head to foot.
Sing with gladness, and keep your seat unmoved within your heart.
LXXIX
III. 66. nâ main dharmî nahîn adharmî
I am neither pious nor ungodly, I live neither by law nor by sense, I am neither a speaker nor hearer, I am
neither a servant nor master, I am neither bond nor free, I am neither detached nor attached. I am far from
none: I am near to none. I shall go neither to hell nor to heaven. I do all works; yet I am apart from all works.
Few comprehend my meaning: he who can comprehend it, he sits unmoved. Kabîr seeks neither to establish
nor to destroy.
LXXX
III. 69. satta nâm hai sab ten nyârâ
The true Name is like none other name! The distinction of the Conditioned from the Unconditioned is but a
word: The Unconditioned is the seed, the Conditioned is the flower and the fruit. Knowledge is the branch,
and the Name is the root. Look, and see where the root is: happiness shall be yours when you come to the
root. The root will lead you to the branch, the leaf, the flower, and the fruit: It is the encounter with the Lord,
it is the attainment of bliss, it is the reconciliation of the Conditioned and the Unconditioned.
LXXXI
III. 74. pratham ek jo âpai âp
In the beginning was He alone, sufficient unto Himself: the formless, colourless, and unconditioned Being.
Then was there neither beginning, middle, nor end; Then were no eyes, no darkness, no light; Then were no
ground, air, nor sky; no fire, water, nor earth; no rivers like the Ganges and the Jumna, no seas, oceans, and
waves. Then was neither vice nor virtue; scriptures there were not, as the Vedas and Puranas, nor as the
Koran. Kabîr ponders in his mind and says, "Then was there no activity: the Supreme Being remained merged
in the unknown depths of His own self." The Guru neither eats nor drinks, neither lives nor dies: Neither has
He form, line, colour, nor vesture. He who has neither caste nor clan nor anything else−−how may I describe
His glory? He has neither form nor formlessness, He has no name, He has neither colour nor colourlessness,
He has no dwelling−place.
LXXXII
III. 76. kahain Kabîr vicâr ke

Songs of Kabir 26
Kabîr ponders and says: "He who has neither caste nor country, who is formless and without quality, fills all
space." The Creator brought into being the Game of Joy: and from the word Om the Creation sprang. The
earth is His joy; His joy is the sky; His joy is the flashing of the sun and the moon; His joy is the beginning,
the middle, and the end; His joy is eyes, darkness, and light. Oceans and waves are His joy: His joy the
Sarasvati, the Jumna, and the Ganges. The Guru is One: and life and death., union and separation, are all His
plays of joy! His play the land and water, the whole universe! His play the earth and the sky! In play is the
Creation spread out, in play it is established. The whole world, says Kabîr, rests in His play, yet still the
Player remains unknown.
LXXXIII
III. 84. jhî jhî jantar bâjai
The harp gives forth murmurous music; and the dance goes on without hands and feet. It is played without
fingers, it is heard without ears: for He is the ear, and He is the listener. The gate is locked, but within there is
fragrance: and there the meeting is seen of none. The wise shall understand it.
LXXXIV
III. 89. mor phakîrwâ mângi jây
The Beggar goes a−begging, but I could not even catch sight of Him: And what shall I beg of the Beggar He
gives without my asking. Kabîr says: "I am His own: now let that befall which may befall!"
LXXXV
III. 90. naihar se jiyarâ phât re
My heart cries aloud for the house of my lover; the open road and the shelter of a roof are all one to her who
has lost the city of her husband. My heart finds no joy in anything: my mind and my body are distraught. His
palace has a million gates, but there is a vast ocean between it and me: How shall I cross it, O friend? for
endless is the outstretching of the path. How wondrously this lyre is wrought! When its strings are rightly
strung, it maddens the heart: but when the keys are broken and the strings are loosened, none regard it more. I
tell my parents with laughter that I must go to my Lord in the morning;
They are angry, for they do not want me to go, and they say: "She thinks she has gained such dominion over
her husband that she can have whatsoever she wishes; and therefore she is impatient to go to him." Dear
friend, lift my veil lightly now; for this is the night of love. Kabîr says: "Listen to me! My heart is eager to
meet my lover: I lie sleepless upon my bed. Remember me early in the morning!"
LXXXVI
III. 96. jîv mahal men S'iv pahunwâ
Serve your God, who has come into this temple of life! Do not act the part of a madman, for the night is
thickening fast. He has awaited me for countless ages, for love of me He has lost His heart: Yet I did not know
the bliss that was so near to me, for my love was not yet awake. But now, my Lover has made known to me
the meaning of the note that struck my ear: Now, my good fortune is come. Kabîr says: "Behold! how great is
my good fortune! I have received the unending caress of my Beloved!"
LXXXVII
Songs of Kabir 27
I. 71. gagan ghatâ ghaharânî, sâdho
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
Songs of Kabir 28
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
The Lord is in me, the Lord is in you, as life is in every seed. O servant! put false pride away, and seek for
Him within you. A million suns are ablaze with light, The sea of blue spreads in the sky, The fever of life is
stilled, and all stains are washed away; when I sit in the midst of that world. Hark to the unstruck bells and
drums! Take your delight in love! Rains pour down without water, and the rivers are streams of light. One
Love it is that pervades the whole world, few there are who know it fully: They are blind who hope to see it
by the light of reason, that reason which is the cause of separation−− The House of Reason is very far away!
Songs of Kabir 29
How blessed is Kabîr, that amidst this great joy he sings within his own vessel. It is the music of the meeting
of soul with soul; It is the music of the forgetting of sorrows; It is the music that transcends all coming in and
all going forth.
XCVIII
II. 98. ritu phâgun niyarânî
The month of March draws near: ah, who will unite me to my Lover? How shall I find words for the beauty of
my Beloved? For He is merged in all beauty. His colour is in all the pictures of the world, and it bewitches the
body and the mind. Those who know this, know what is this unutterable play of the Spring. Kabîr says:
"Listen to me, brother' there are not many who have found this out."
XCIX
II. 111. Nârad, pyâr so antar nâhî
Oh Narad! I know that my Lover cannot be far: When my Lover wakes, I wake; when He sleeps, I sleep. He is
destroyed at the root who gives pain to my Beloved. Where they sing His praise, there I live; When He moves,
I walk before Him: my heart yearns for my Beloved. The infinite pilgrimage lies at His feet, a million
devotees are seated there. Kabîr says: "The Lover Himself reveals the glory of true love."
II. 122. kôî prem kî peng jhulâo re
Hang up the swing of love to−day! Hang the body and the mind between the arms of the Beloved, in the
ecstasy of love's joy: Bring the tearful streams of the rainy clouds to your eyes, and cover your heart with the
shadow of darkness: Bring your face nearer to His ear, and speak of the deepest longings of your heart. Kabîr
says: "Listen to me, brother! bring the vision of the Beloved in your heart."
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Songs of Kabir 1

**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**

**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**

*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****

Title: Songs of Kabir

Author: Rabindranath Tagore (trans.)

Character set encoding: Latin1

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, SONGS OF KABIR ***

Translated by Rabindranath Tagore

Introduction by Evelyn Underhill

New York, The Macmillan Company

The reference of the headlines of the poems is to:

Sântiniketana; Kabîr by Srî Kshitimohan Sen, 4 parts, Brahmacharyâsrama, Bolpur, 1910−1911.

I. 13. <i>mo ko kahân dhûnro bande</i>

I. 16. <i>Santan jât na pûcho nirguniyân</i>

I. 57. <i>sâdho bhâî, jîval hî karo âs'â</i>

I. 58. <i>bâgo nâ jâ re nâ jâ</i>

I. 63. <i>avadhû, mâyâ tajî na jây</i>

I. 83. <i>candâ jhalkai yahi ghat mâhîn</i>

I. 85. <i>Sâdho, Brahm alakh lakhâyâ</i>

I. 101. <i>is ghat antar bâg bagîce</i>

I. 104. <i>aisâ lo nahîn taisâ lo</i>

I. 121. <i>tohi mori lagan lagâye re phakîr wâ</i>

I. 131. <i>nis' din khelat rahî sakhiyân sang</i>

II. 24. <i>hamsâ, kaho purâtan vât</i>

II. 37. <i>angadhiyâ devâ</i>

II. 56. <i>dariyâ kî lahar dariyâo hai jî</i>

II. 57. <i>jânh khelat vasant riturâj</i>

II. 59. <i>jânh, cet acet khambh dôû</i>

II. 61. <i>grah candra tapan jot varat hai</i>

II. 77. <i>maddh âkas' âp jahân baithe</i>

II. 20. <i>paramâtam guru nikat virâjatn</i>

II. 22. <i>man tu pâr utar kânh jaiho</i>

II. 33. <i>ghar ghar dîpak barai</i>

II. 38. <i>Sâdho, so satgur mohi bhâwai</i>

II. 40. <i>tinwir sâñjh kâ gahirâ âwai</i>

II. 48. <i>jis se rahani apâr jagat men</i>

II. 45. <i>Hari ne apnâ âp chipâyâ</i>

II. 75. <i>ônkâr siwae kôî sirjai</i>

II. 81. <i>satgur sôî dayâ kar dînhâ</i>

II. 85. <i>nirgun âge sargun nâcai</i>

II. 87. <i>Kabîr kab se bhaye vairâgî</i>

II. 95. <i>yâ tarvar men ek pakherû</i>

II. 100. <i>nis` din sâlai ghâw</i>

II. 103. <i>nâco re mero man, matta hoy</i>

the Creator is well pleased.

II. 105. <i>man mast huâ tab kyon bole</i>

II. 110. <i>mohi tohi lâgî kaise chute</i>

II. 113. <i>vâlam, âwo hamâre geh re</i>

II. 126. <i>jâg piyârî, ab kân sowai</i>

I. 36. <i>sûr parkâs', tanh rain kahân pâïye</i>

I. 50. <i>bhram kâ tâlâ lagâ mahal re</i>

I. 59. <i>sâdho, yah tan thâth tanvure ka</i>

I. 65. <i>avadhû bhûle ko ghar lâwe</i>

I. 76. <i>santo, sahaj samâdh bhalî</i>

I. 79. <i>tîrath men to sab pânî hai</i>

I. 82. <i>pânî vic mîn piyâsî</i>

I. 93. <i>gagan math gaib nisân gade</i>

I. 97. <i>sâdho, ko hai kânh se âyo</i>

I. 98. <i>sâdho, sahajai kâyâ s'odho</i>

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* END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, SONGS OF KABIR *

*STARTTHE SMALL PRINT!FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKSSTART*** Why is this "Small