XXIII


II. 40. <i>tinwir sâñjh kâ gahirâ âwai</i>

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. <i>jis se rahani apâr jagat men</i>

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. <i>Hari ne apnâ âp chipâyâ</i>

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. <i>ônkâr siwae kôî sirjai</i>

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. <i>satgur sôî dayâ kar dînhâ</i>

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. <i>nirgun âge sargun nâcai</i>

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. <i>Kabîr kab se bhaye vairâgî</i>

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. <i>yâ tarvar men ek pakherû</i>

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. <i>nis` din sâlai ghâw</i>

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. <i>nâco re mero man, matta hoy</i>

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.