LXIII


I. 39. <i>are man, dhîraj kâhe na dharai</i>

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. <i>sâîn se lagan kathin hai, bhâî</i>

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. <i>jab main bhûlâ, re bhâî</i>

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. <i>man na rangâye</i>

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. <i>nâ jâne sâhab kaisâ hai</i>

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. <i>ham se rahâ na jây</i>

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. <i>jo khodâ masjid vasat hai</i>

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. <i>s'îl santosh sadâ samadrishti</i>

He who is meek and contented., he who has an equal vision, whose
  mind is filled with the fullness of acceptance and of rest;
He who has seen Him and touched Him, he is freed from all fear
  and trouble.
To him the perpetual thought of God is like sandal paste smeared
  on the body, to him nothing else is delight:
His work and his rest are filled with music: he sheds abroad the
  radiance of love.
Kabîr says: "Touch His feet, who is one and indivisible,
  immutable and peaceful; who fills all vessels to the brim with
  joy, and whose form is love."

LXXI


III. 13. <i>sâdh sangat pîtam</i>

Go thou to the company of the good, where the Beloved One has His
  dwelling place:
Take all thy thoughts and love and instruction from thence.
Let that assembly be burnt to ashes where His Name is not spoken!
Tell me, how couldst thou hold a wedding-feast, if the bridegroom
  himself were not there?
Waver no more, think only of the Beloved;
Set not thy heart on the worship of other gods, there is no worth
  in the worship of other masters.
Kabîr deliberates and says: "Thus thou shalt never find the
  Beloved!"

LXXII


III. 26. <i>tor hîrâ hirâilwâ kîcad men</i>

The jewel is lost in the mud, and all are seeking for it;
Some look for it in the east, and some in the west; some in the
  water and some amongst stones.
But the servant Kabîr has appraised it at its true value, and has
  wrapped it with care in the end of the mantle of his heart.