In simplicity will I unite with the Simple One ; my love will surge up. Let the weary come and lay his burdens here! My heart is eager to meet my lover : I lie sleepless upon my bed. Human life, as an enterprise, is fundamentally futile, and the only meaningful activity that is possible is the active search for union with the Divine. Consider it well, O my heart! Where there is the response of delight, there is the fullness of joy. O, Kazi, O Pundit, consider it well: what is there that is not in the soul? 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. 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. 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.
I will offer my body and mind to my Lord : I will give up my life, but never can I forget my Lord! 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. 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. As he was walking down the steps to the waters, a little hand reached out in the predawn morning and grabbed the saint's big toe. Receive the waves in your body: what splendour is in the region of the sea! Only he knows it who has reached that region : it is other than all that is heard and said. Let wise men seek to know where rests that bird. It is love-poetry, but love-poetry which is often written with a missionary intention. When you think that He is not here, then you wander further and further away, and seek Him in vain with tears.
You have slept for unnumbered ages; this morning will you not wake? To whom shall I tell my sorrow? Joy for ever, no sorrow, no struggle! Some contemplate the Formless, and others meditate on form: but the wise man knows that Brahma is beyond both. 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. He has neither form nor formlessness, He has no name, He has neither colour nor colourlessness, He has no dwelling-place. Once at least, after the performance of a supposed miracle of healing, he was brought before the Emperor Sikandar Lodi, and charged with claiming the possession of divine powers. 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! Kabir gives utterance to the words of experience ; and he knows very well that all other things are un- true. There Brahma is revealed day and night; there light is His garment, light is His seat, light rests on thy head. His palace has a million gates, but there is a vast ocean between it and me: How shall I cross it, O friend? My youth has flowered, and the pain of separation from Him troubles my breast.
अर्थ — जिस भ्रम तथा मोह की रस्सी से जगत के जीव बंधे है। हे कल्याण इच्छुक! There the Unstruck Music is sounded; it is the music of the love of the three worlds. 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. Its affirmation was one of the distinguishing features of the Vaishnavite reformation preached by Ramanuja ; the principle of which had descended through Ramananda to Kabir. Cite error: Closing missing for tag As mentioned above, Kabir's poetic style utilizes both metaphors and similes from everyday life, and the language of tantra. That beauty of His is not seen of the eye : that metre of His is not heard of the ear. The musk is in the deer, but it seeks it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass.
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. 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. She burns and lets others grieve, yet never dishonours love. Hari is in the East; Allah is in the West. Your lover is wise, and you are foolish, O woman! I have no taste for food, I have no sleep; my heart is ever restless within doors and without.
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? I will offer my body and mind to my Lord: I will give up my life, but never can I forget my Lord!. And who has ever taught love to find bliss in renunciation? How widely the fragrance spreads! Address Him as your Lord. The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak; I know, for I have cried aloud to them. 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. 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! The Rishi Swapacha was a tanner by caste. There, there is neither body nor mind: and where is the place that shall still the thirst of the soul? Where the rhythm of the world rises and falls, thither my heart has reached: There the hidden banners are fluttering in the air. On that shore there is a city, where the rain of nectar pours and pours, and never ceases.
Indian Religions: A Historical Reader of Spiritual Expression and Experience. Ah, could my mind and eyes be one! Could but the fiery heat of my heart be cooled! I was drowning in the deeps of the ocean of this world, and Thou didst save me : upholding me with Thine arm, O Fakir! The night is dark; the hours slip by. Where there is love, there is no lust. If you'd prefer to make a one-time donation,. 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. When its load was light, the pan of the balance went up: now it is full, where is the need for weighing? 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. 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.
Living at the moment in which the impassioned poetry and deep philosophy of the great Persian mystics, Attar, Sadi, Jalalu'ddin Rumi, and Hafiz, 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 Brahmanism. Bathe in the truth, know the true Guru, have faith in the true Name! Ê He adopted him as son and disciple and brought him back to his ashrama, much to the disturbance of his Hindu students, some of whom left in righteous protest. Tell me, Sir, where is the distinction? When you think that He is not here, then you wander further and further away, and seek Him in vain with tears. My Lord brings to me words of sorrow and words of joy, and He Himself heals their strife. Kabir was married, had children, and lived the simple life of a weaver.
From the beginning until the ending of time, there is love between Thee and me ; and how shall such love be extinguished? You shall find naught in that emptiness. The flower blooms, though it is not spring; and already the bee has received its invitation. I have received the unending caress of my Beloved! 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! I was sleeping in my own chamber, and Thou didst awaken me; striking me with Thy voice, O Fakir! The rising and the setting are one to me; all contradictions are solved. 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. 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 are beaten to no purpose by the waves. For the mere intellectualist, as for the mere pietist, he has little approbation. To whom shall I tell my sorrow? Joy for ever, no sorrow,—no struggle! 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? When they lifted the cloth covering his body, they found flowers instead.