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Song 15
Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth,
there the
Unstruck Music sounds of itself,
There the streams of light flow in all directions;
Few are the men who can cross to that shore!
There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands
folded,
Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads,
Where millions of Brahmās are reading the Vedas,
Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation,
Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered,
Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play
on the vina--
There is my Lord self-revealed: and the scent of
sandal and
flowers dwells in those deeps.
Song 16
Between the poles of the conscious
and the unconscious,
there has the mind made a swing:
Thereon hang all beings and all worlds,
and that swing never ceases its sway.
Millions of beings are there: the sun
and the moon in their courses are there:
Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on.
All swing! the sky and the earth and the air and the
water;
and the Lord Himself taking form:
And the sight of this has made Kabīr a servant.
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