of nectar; andwithout 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
