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 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

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.

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."

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 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."

L

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

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

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_

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_

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_

Songs of Kabir · 第 2 / 3 段