LXXXI-XC
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
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
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."