XXXIII


II. 105. <i>man mast huâ tab kyon bole</i>

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. <i>mohi tohi lâgî kaise chute</i>

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. <i>vâlam, âwo hamâre geh re</i>

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. <i>jâg piyârî, ab kân sowai</i>

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. <i>sûr parkâs', tanh rain kahân pâïye</i>

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. <i>bhram kâ tâlâ lagâ mahal re</i>

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. <i>sâdho, yah tan thâth tanvure ka</i>

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. <i>avadhû bhûle ko ghar lâwe</i>

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. <i>santo, sahaj samâdh bhalî</i>

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. <i>tîrath men to sab pânî hai</i>

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.