The Essential Works of Tagore. Rabindranath Tagore
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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?
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."
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.