There is nothing but water in the holy pools,
I know, I have been swimming in them.
All the gods sculpted in wood and ivory can't say a word.
I know, I have been crying out to them.
The Sacred Books of the East are nothing but words.
I looked through their covers one day sideways.
What Kabir talks about is only he has lived through.
If you have not lived through something, it is not true.
II
I have been thinking of the difference between water and the waves on it.
Rising, water is still water, falling back, it is water.
Will you give me a hint how to tell them apart?
Because someone has made up the word 'wave',
do I have to distinguish it from 'water'?
There is a Secret One inside us.
The planets in all the galaxies pass through his hands like beads.
That is a string of beads one should look at with luminous eyes.
III
Are you looking for me?
I am in the next seat: your shoulder is against mine.
You will not find me in Stupas, nor in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in the synagogue, nor in cathedrals,
not in masses, nor Kirtans,
not in legs twisting around the neck, not in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you look for me, you will find me instantly.
You will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says, "Student, tell me, what is God? He is the breath inside the breath."
IV
What has death and a thick body dances before what has no thick body and no death.
The trumpet says: "I am you."
The spiritual master arrives and bows down to the beginning student.
Try to live to see this!
V
I talk to my inner lover and I say, why such rush?
We sense that there is some sort of spirit
that loves birds and animals and the ants.
Perhaps the same one who gave a radiance to you in your mother's womb.
Is it logical you would be walking around entirely orphaned now?
The truth is you turned away yourself,
and decided to go into the dark alone.
Now you are tangled up in others,
and have forgotten what you once knew,
and that is why everthing you do has some weird failure in it.
VI
The bhakti path winds in a delicate way.
On this path there is no asking and no not-asking.
The ego simply disappears the moment you touch him.
And the joy of looking for him is so immense
that you just dive in, and coast around like a fish in the water.
If anyone needs a hand, the lover leaps up to offer his.
Kabir's poems touch on the secret of this bhakti.
VII
I know the sound of the ecstatic flute,
but I don't know whose flute it is.
A lamp burns and has neither wick nor oil.
A waterplant blossoms and is not attached to the bottom.
When one flower opens, ordinarly dozens open.
Tha moon bird's head is filled with nothing but thoughts of the moon,
and when the next rain will come, is all that the rain-bird thinks of.
Who is it we spend our entire life loving?
VIII
It is time to put up a love-swing!
Tie the body ad then tie the mind
so that they swing between the arms of the secret One you love.
Bring the water that falls from the clouds to your eyes.
And cover yourself over entirely with the shadow of night.
Bring your face up close to his ear,
and then talk only about what you want deeply to happen.
Kabir says, "Listen to me, brother, bring the face, shape and odor
of the Holy One inside you."
IX
The darkness of night is coming along fast,
and the shadows of love close in the body and the mind.
Open the window to the west,
and disappear into the air inside you.
Near your breastbone there is an open flower.
Drink the honey that is all around the flower.
Waves are coming in:
There is so much magnificence near the ocean.
Listen: sound of immense seashells!
Sounds of bells!
Kabir says, "Friend, listen, this is what I have to say:
The Guest I love is inside me!"
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