Reading section 2

Yet in this wide and rapturous vision of the universe Kabîr never loses touch with diurnal existence, never forgets the common life. His feet are firmly planted upon earth; his lofty and passionate apprehensions are perpetually controlled by the activity of a sane and vigorous intellect, by the alert commonsense so often found in persons of real mystical genius. The constant insistence on simplicity and directness, the hatred of all abstractions and philosophizings,[Footnote: Nos. XXVI, XXXII, LXXVI] the ruthless criticism of external religion: these are amongst his most marked characteristics. God is the Root whence all manifestations, "material" and "spiritual," alike proceed; [Footnote: Nos. LXXV, LXXVIII, LXXX, XC.] and God is the only need of man--"happiness shall be yours when you come to the Root." [Footnote: No. LXXX.] Hence to those who keep their eye on the "one thing needful," denominations, creeds, ceremonies, the conclusions of philosophy, the disciplines of asceticism, are matters of comparative indifference. They represent merely the different angles from which the soul may approach that simple union with Brahma which is its goal; and are useful only in so faras they contribute to this consummation. So thorough-going is Kabîr's eclecticism, that he seems by turns Vedântist and Vaishnavite, Pantheist and Transcendentalist, Brâhman and Sûfî. In the effort to tell the truth about that ineffable apprehension, so vast and yet so near, which controls his life, he seizes and twines together--as he might have woven together contrasting threads upon his loom--symbols and ideas drawn from the most violent and conflicting philosophies and faiths. All are needed, if he is ever to suggest the character of that One whom the Upanishad called "the Sun-coloured Being who is beyond this Darkness": as all the colours of the spectrum are needed if we would demonstrate the simple richness of white light. In thus adapting traditional materials to his own use he follows a method common amongst the mystics; who seldom exhibit any special love for originality of form. They will pour their wine into almost any vessel that comes to hand: generally using by preference--and lifting to new levels of beauty and significance--the religious or philosophic formulæ current in their own day. Thus we find that some of Kabîr's finest poems have as their subjects the commonplaces of Hindu philosophy and religion: the Lîlâ or Sport of God, the Ocean of Bliss, the Bird of the Soul, Mâyâ, the Hundred-petalled Lotus, and the "Formless Form." Many, again, are soaked in Sûfî imagery and feeling. Others use as their material the ordinary surroundings and incidents of Indian life: the temple bells, the ceremony of the lamps, marriage, suttee, pilgrimage, the characters of the seasons; all felt by him in their mystical aspect, as sacraments of the soul's relation with Brahma. In many of these a particularly beautiful and intimate feeling for Nature is shown. [Footnote: Nos. XV, XXIII, LXVII, LXXXVII, XCVII.]

In the collection of songs here translated there will be found examples which illustrate nearly every aspect of Kabîr's thought, and all the fluctuations of the mystic's emotion: the ecstasy, the despair, the still beatitude, the eager self-devotion, the flashes of wide illumination, the moments of intimate love. His wide and deep vision of the universe, the "Eternal Sport" of creation (LXXXII), the worlds being "told like beads" within the Being of God (XIV, XVI, XVII, LXXVI), is here seen balanced by his lovely and delicate sense of intimate communion with the Divine Friend, Lover, Teacher of the soul (X, XI, XXIII, XXXV, LI, LXXXV, LXXXVI, LXXXVIII, XCII, XCIII; above all, the beautiful poem XXXIV). As these apparently paradoxical views of Reality are resolved in Brâhma, so all other opposites are reconciled in Him: bondage and liberty, love and renunciation, pleasure and pain (XVII, XXV, XL, LXXIX). Union with Him is the one thing that matters to the soul, its destiny and its need (LI, I, II, LIV, LXX, LXXIV, XCIII, XCVI); and this union, this discovery of God, is the simplest and most natural of all things, if we would but grasp it (XLI, XLVI, LVI, LXXII, LXXVI, LXXVIII, XCVII). The union, however, is brought about by love, not by knowledge or ceremonial observances (XXXVIII, LIV, LV, LIX, XCI); and the apprehension which that union confers is ineffable--"neither This nor That," as Ruysbroeck has it (IX, XLVI, LXXVI). Real worship and communion is in Spirit and in Truth (XL, XLI, LVI, LXIII, LXV, LXX), therefore idolatry is an insult to the Divine Lover (XLII, LXIX) and the devices of professional sanctity are useless apart from charity and purity of soul (LIV, LXV, LXVI). Since all things, and especially the heart of man, are God-inhabited, God-possessed (XXVI, LVI, LXXVI, LXXXIX, XCVII), He may best be found in the here-and-now: in the normal. human, bodily existence, the "mud" of material life (III, IV, VI, XXI, XXXIX, XL, XLIII, XLVIII, LXXII). "We can reach the goal without crossing the road" (LXXVI)--not the cloister but the home is the proper theatre of man's efforts: and if he cannot find God there, he need not hope for success by going farther afield. "In the home is reality." There love and detachment, bondage and freedom, joy and pain play by turns upon the soul; and it is from their conflict that the Unstruck Music of the Infinite proceeds. Kabîr says: "None but Brahma can evoke its melodies."

"This version of Kabîr's songs is chiefly the work of Mr. Rabîndranâth Tagore, the trend of whose mystical genius makes him--as all who read these poems will see--a peculiarly sympathetic interpreter of Kabîr's vision and thought. It has been based upon the printed Hindî text with Bengali translation of Mr. Kshiti Mohan Sen; who has gathered from many sources--sometimes from books and manuscripts, sometimes from the lips of wandering ascetics and minstrels--a large collection of poems and hymns to which Kabîr's name is attached, and carefully sifted the authentic songs from the many spurious works now attributed to him. These painstaking labours alone have made the present undertaking possible.

We have also had before us a manuscript English translation of 116 songs made by Mr. Ajit Kumâr Chakravarty from Mr. Kshiti Mohan Sen's text, and a prose essay upon Kabîr from the same hand. From these we have derived great assistance. A considerable number of readings from the translation have been adopted by us; whilst several of the facts mentioned in the essay have been incorporated into this introduction. Our most grateful thanks are due to Mr. Ajit Kumar Chakravarty for the extremely generous and unselfish manner in which he has placed his work at our disposal.

E. U.

The reference of the headlines of the poems is to:

Sântiniketana; Kabîr by Srî Kshitimohan Sen, 4 parts, Brahmacharyâsrama, Bolpur, 1910-1911.

For some assistance in normalizing the transliteration we are indebted to Professor J. F. Blumhardt.

KABIR'S POEMS

I

I. 13. _mo ko kahân dhûnro bande_

O servant, where dost thou seek Me? Lo! I am beside thee. I am neither in temple nor in mosque: I am neither in Kaaba nor in Kailash: Neither am I in rites and ceremonies, nor in Yoga and renunciation. If thou art a true seeker, thou shalt at once see Me: thou shalt meet Me in a moment of time. Kabîr says, "O Sadhu! God is the breath of all breath."

II

I. 16. _Santan jât na pûcho nirguniyân_

It is needless to ask of a saint the caste to which he belongs; For the priest, the warrior. the tradesman, and all the thirty-six castes, alike are seeking for God. It is but folly to ask what the caste of a saint may be; The barber has sought God, the washerwoman, and the carpenter-- Even Raidas was a seeker after God. The Rishi Swapacha was a tanner by caste. Hindus and Moslems alike have achieved that End, where remains no mark of distinction.

III

I. 57. _sâdho bhâî, jîval hî karo âs'â_

O friend! hope for Him whilst you live, know whilst you live, understand whilst you live: for in life deliverance abides. If your bonds be not broken whilst living, what hope of deliverance in death? It is but an empty dream, that the soul shall have union with Him because it has passed from the body: If He is found now, He is found then, If not, we do but go to dwell in the City of Death. If you have union now, you shall have it hereafter. Bathe in the truth, know the true Guru, have faith in the true Name! Kabîr says: "It is the Spirit of the quest which helps; I am the slave of this Spirit of the quest."

IV

I. 58. _bâgo nâ jâ re nâ jâ_

Do not go to the garden of flowers! O Friend! go not there; In your body is the garden of flowers. Take your seat on the thousand petals of the lotus, and there gaze on the Infinite Beauty.

V

I. 63. _avadhû, mâyâ tajî na jây_

Tell me, Brother, how can I renounce Maya? When I gave up the tying of ribbons, still I tied my garment about me: When I gave up tying my garment, still I covered my body in its folds. So, when I give up passion, I see that anger remains; And when I renounce anger, greed is with me still; And when greed is vanquished, pride and vainglory remain; When the mind is detached and casts Maya away, still it clings to the letter. Kabîr says, "Listen to me, dear Sadhu! the true path is rarely found."

VI

I. 83. _candâ jhalkai yahi ghat mâhîn_

The moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it: The moon is within me, and so is the sun. The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf ears cannot hear it.

So long as man clamours for the _I_ and the _Mine_, his works are as naught: When all love of the _I_ and the _Mine_ is dead, then the work of the Lord is done. For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge: When that comes, then work is put away.

The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower withers. The musk is in the deer, but it seeks it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass.

VII

I. 85. _Sâdho, Brahm alakh lakhâyâ_

When He Himself reveals Himself, Brahma brings into manifestation That which can never be seen. As the seed is in the plant, as the shade is in the tree, as the void is in the sky, as infinite forms are in the void-- So from beyond the Infinite, the Infinite comes; and from the Infinite the finite extends.

The creature is in Brahma, and Brahma is in the creature: they are ever distinct, yet ever united. He Himself is the tree, the seed, and the germ. He Himself is the flower, the fruit, and the shade. He Himself is the sun, the light, and the lighted. He Himself is Brahma, creature, and Maya. He Himself is the manifold form, the infinite space; He is the breath, the word, and the meaning. He Himself is the limit and the limitless: and beyond both the limited and the limitless is He, the Pure Being. He is the Immanent Mind in Brahma and in the creature.

The Supreme Soul is seen within the soul, The Point is seen within the Supreme Soul, And within the Point, the reflection is seen again. Kabîr is blest because he has this supreme vision!

VIII

I. 101. _is ghat antar bâg bagîce_

Within this earthen vessel are bowers and groves, and within it is the Creator: Within this vessel are the seven oceans and the unnumbered stars. The touchstone and the jewel-appraiser are within; And within this vessel the Eternal soundeth, and the spring wells up. Kabîr says: "Listen to me, my Friend! My beloved Lord is within."

IX

I. 104. _aisâ lo nahîn taisâ lo_

O How may I ever express that secret word? O how can I say He is not like this, and He is like that? If I say that He is within me, the universe is ashamed: If I say that He is without me, it is falsehood. He makes the inner and the outer worlds to be indivisibly one; The conscious and the unconscious, both are His footstools. He is neither manifest nor hidden, He is neither revealed nor unrevealed: There are no words to tell that which He is.

X

I. 121. _tohi mori lagan lagâye re phakîr wâ_

To Thee Thou hast drawn my love, O Fakir! I was sleeping in my own chamber, and Thou didst awaken me; striking me with Thy voice, O Fakir! I was drowning in the deeps of the ocean of this world, and Thou didst save me: upholding me with Thine arm, O Fakir! Only one word and no second--and Thou hast made me tear off all my bonds, O Fakir! Kabîr says, "Thou hast united Thy heart to my heart, O Fakir!"

XI

I. 131. _nis' din khelat rahî sakhiyân sang_

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. Kabîr 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."

XII

II. 24. _hamsâ, kaho purâtan vât_

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.

XIII

II. 37. _angadhiyâ devâ_

O Lord Increate, who will serve Thee? Every votary offers his worship to the God of his own creation: each day he receives service-- None seek Him, the Perfect: Brahma, the Indivisible Lord. They believe in ten Avatars; but no Avatar can be the Infinite Spirit, for he suffers the results of his deeds: The Supreme One must be other than this. The Yogi, the Sanyasi, the Ascetics, are disputing one with another: Kabîr says, "O brother! he who has seen that radiance of love, he is saved."

XIV

II. 56. _dariyâ kî lahar dariyâo hai jî_

The river and its waves are one surf: where is the difference between the river and its waves? When the wave rises, it is the water; and when it falls, it is the same water again. Tell me, Sir, where is the distinction? Because it has been named as wave, shall it no longer be considered as water?

Within the Supreme Brahma, the worlds are being told like beads: Look upon that rosary with the eyes of wisdom.

XV

II. 57. _jânh khelat vasant riturâj_

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 Brahmâs 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.