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Song 11
I played day and night with my comrades,
and now I am greatly afraid.
So high is my Lord's palace, my heart trembles to
mount its
stairs: yet I must not be shy, if I would enjoy His
love.
My heart must cleave to my Lover; I must withdraw my
veil, and
meet Him with all my body:
Mine eyes must perform the ceremony of the lamps of
love.
Kabīr 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."
Song 12
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.
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