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Song
83
The harp gives forth murmurous
music;
and the dance goes on without hands and feet.
It is played without fingers, it is heard without
ears:
for He is the ear, and He is the listener.
The gate is locked, but within there is fragrance:
and there the
meeting is seen of none. The wise shall understand
it.
Song 84
The Beggar goes a-begging, but
I could not even catch sight of Him:
And what shall I beg of the Beggar He gives without
my asking.
Kabīr says: "I am His own: now let that befall which
may befall!"
Song 85
My heart cries aloud for the house
of my lover;
the open road and the shelter of a roof are all one
to her
who has lost the city of her husband.
My heart finds no joy in anything: my mind and my
body are distraught.
His palace has a million gates, but there is a vast
ocean between it and me:
How shall I cross it, O friend? for endless is the
outstretching of the path.
How wondrously this lyre is wrought! When its
strings are
rightly strung, it maddens the heart: but when the
keys are
broken and the strings are loosened, none regard it
more.
I tell my parents with laughter that I must go to my
Lord in the morning;
They are angry, for they do not want me to go, and
they say: "She
thinks she has gained such dominion over her husband
that she
can have whatsoever she wishes;
and therefore she is
impatient to go to him."
Dear friend, lift my veil lightly now; for this is
the night of love.
Kabīr says: "Listen to me! My heart is eager to meet
my lover: I
lie sleepless upon my bed. Remember me early in the
morning!"
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