Songs of Kabir — Song LXIV
Songs of Kabir — Song LXIV
Kabir
I. 117. _sâîn se lagan kathin hai, bhâî_
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.
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Complete 100-song 1915 English selection translated by Rabindranath Tagore. A selected edition, not the entire Kabir corpus. · Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
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