Soul

I am a Proud Muslim Woman

I am a proud muslim woman,
I'm the scent of a flower in the household-desert.


The dark Ka'aba I've illuminated with a light,
and on Eid-day brought a plate of gifts.
I was the first to be converted,
I was the first to garland the prophet.
I have sacrificed my son, my husband,
my relations in the battles of karbala and badar
That is known to all the planets,
and to Allah.


[Ami gorobini muslim bala; Translation: Abu Rushd]

Help me do the crossing

Help me do the crossing,
Oh Lord of the Universe.
The boat is rocking on the waves of pity; endless is the crossing.

My boat is battered and there is no oarsman and the hope is
remote to get to the shore.

If you spurn me because I am helpless, whom shall I rely on.
In this unfeeling world those who were my companions

Have one after the other left me as this night of darkness approached.
You be my pole star and lit up the immense darkness.

Without your kindness, you universal friend,
I can't make the crossing.

[Original: Jagoter nath, karo par; Translation: Abu Rushd]

Grief-Laden Mid-Night

In this still solitude of deep mid-night
Tears unbidden appear in my eyes
What recollection doth enrapture
Whose disregard doth agonize the breast?
What wail of disappointment doth in
the bottom of her heart arise and start
a flood of tears?


The agony of my unfulfilled life
I cannot conceal this mid-night,
Thus in the privacy of my solitary,
bed I do but burst into overflowing tears.


On such a night arose once a hundred
desires in my bosom and now their
despondency is writ large in that
drooping Shefalika and in the
pathos of the Purabi strains.


[Translation: Abdul Hakim]

God


Who are you, my friend,
searching for God in heaven
and the underworld?
Who are you-searching
through the wilderness
and mountain peaks?
It's a pity-O Rishis and Dervishes,
you go on searching for Him
from country to country
while holding the Jewel of the Heart
in your own heart!
The whole creation looks at you
while your own eyes are shut.
You search for the creator
instead of searching for your self.
O self-inflicted Blind-open your eyes,
look at yourself in the mirror.
You'll see-His shadow falls on your body.
Don't shudder, Hero,
don't be intimidated
by the scholars of the scripturesthey're
not God's 'private secretaries'
We all are His manifestation,
He is present in us all.
Seeing myself, I see the unseen Creator..
The merchants at the seaport trade in gems.
But never ask them where the gems are mined.
They are merely traders of gems,
but they think that they know where the mine is too!
They have never taken a dive
into the fathomless depth of the gem-bearing ocean.
Instead of messing with the scriptures,
my friend, dive right into
the ocean of Truth!


[Translation: Sajed Kamal]

Fateha-i-Doazdaham [The Passing Away]

What an amazing sight is this!
Tears well up even is Azrail's eyes!
His stony heart lies in a sea of grief

trembling like a leaf.
His iron fist, ever alert to make the kill,

is weak and palsied,
his mind dull and inert, his heart lacerated,
his blue headgear kissing the dust in despair!
Even Gabriel's fiery wings appear to be in pieces,
The debt of the world is all but paid,
and yet the heart is full of pain.
Mikail ceaselessly pours all the waters
of the salty seas on the bosom of the earth.
In the dark still night pine branches swing

endlessly in the stormy wind.
Is this the same moon of the twelfth night?
Is this the same Rabiul Awwal?
In the northeastern sky a dark flag flies.
Even Israfil's bugle of annihilation cries weakly.
The heart-crushing thunder, too, weeps

in inconsolable grief.
O Azrail Satan, why do you stand at the

prophet's door?
But even in his eyes tears well up
and they flood the plains of Medina!
The mighty Borrak raises his head
and with his prancing feet spans the earth

and the sky;
he looks at God's throne and neighs angrily

and yet with pity!
All the angels and fairies weep today,
Even the flames of Hell die
leaving only a sea of weary waters.
Today even all the nargis lala of Firdous

break down in a flood of tears.

Mother earth clasps to her bosom

the corpse of her son,
her whole body shakes with deep sighs,
and in the caves of hell mourn the genii.
Well, did Solomon die a second death?
The doe does not care today for her young ones,
they go without their mother's milk'
The birds, too, have forgotten to sing.
All the leaves and flowers fall off from tile trees
and a chilly north wind blows heavily,
The world seems to have reached the end of her days,
all her veins and arteries appear to have snapped.
Mecca and Medina, overwhelmed with grief,

look desolate and dead.
It seems all have assembled in the plain
of Roz-Hashr


and are now crazily running about everywhere.
Even the Kaaba trembles violently every now and then.
The whole creation seems to be suffocating!


All happy tunes sound weak and subdued;
a sad strain pervades the whole atmosphere.
Whose sharp edged sword strikes at the distant moon?
Tears roll down Abu Bakr's cheeks in an endless stream,
and mother Ayesha's cry frightens even the stars


in the sky.
Maddened with grief, Omar brandishes his sword

and cries,
'I shall not spare even God,
Him I shall kill!'
Bereft of his senses the mighty hero rants,
'Who says that the prophet is dead?
Who wants to take his body to the grave?
Let him come near, and I'll severe

his head from his neck!'

Who cry with such broken hearts
in the mosques and over the domes and minarets.?
The muazzin, too, is upset.
Deep is his grief, his heart dull and heavy.
Even Belal's voice breaks in uncontrollable anguish


as he recites the azan! -
The call for janaza, as it tearfully trembles

in the air,
seems to pluck one's heart out!
grief-stricken Usman lies in a swoon,
and the heroic Ali sobs like a child,
sorrow and pain have blunted his double edged zulfiquar!
And, look, there the prophet's darling-daughter

Fatima sobs in heart-breaking grief.
'Where has father gone?', she cries,
and wildly runs about with per uncombed hair,


all dishevelled and awry.

Hassan and Hossain writhe on the ground

like two stricken doves,
'Where has grandpa gone?', they wail,
and look for him everywhere.
The day has lost its sun,

the night its moon and stars.
The world looks sombre and dark
and all eyes shed tears of blood.
The seven seas chum and foam

and appear to drown the heavens above,
they seem to be sweeping away the whole universe,
leaving nothing behind but a vast ocean

of salty tears.


Even God looks sad and restless,
He longs to clasp His friend to His breast,
and yet a strange pain sears His heart;
how can He snatch one away from the


bosom of the earth
for whom the whole creation laments

in this fashion!
There is a great rejoicing in Heaven today.
A mood of festivity prevails there.
All the angels and fairies heartily sing;

'SalIa Allahu-Alaihe-Salam!'
They stand row after row with folded hands
and sing the prophet's praise.

Tears well up only in mother earth's eyes!
Have Amina, Abdullah and the ever devoted
Khadija come?
Look! A gracious smile lights up the face

of even the Lord of the universe! .
Only the children of mother earth lament;
'What is this injustice of yours, O God?'
Today the bright lights of Heaven grow brighter still,
and a happier laughter rings out there,
while mother earth's light dies

and an inky blackness engulfs her!

Today over the tears of the earth
Heaven's laughter rings out endlessly,
and like the roaring of the ocean
from every comer resound the words:

'Salla Allahu-Alaihe-Salam!'

[Original: the same as above; Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

Faith and Hope

Don't look up to them-those
who have lost faith and hope.
They move-yet they're dead-the living dead,
the devil has finished them, robbed them
of their integrity.
Out of fear, their souls have escaped
to the land of Death.


If there are wants, poverty, debt, disease,
suffering, humiliation-don't just succumb
to hopelessness-fight them!
The real enemy is within-fear; and
only the ones who will accept defeat out of confusion,
lies and unnecessary fear will go on suffering every day.


'Oh, what is going to happen? '-those who just sit at home
trembling in fear, are the ones already defeated
in the battle of life.
They are the captives in the prison
of humiliation and subjugation.


They are repuIsive-allowing the helpIess
to be treated with injustice.
They are afraid for no reason, weak and ignorant.
More than pity, I feel infuriated by them.
They lie dead with their tongues stuck out.
Flowers blossom in burial grounds, but
in these dead trees, blossoms nothing.


They are fatalists-sitting alone they think,
'This is my fate, you can't change that! '
They deny their own power,
accepting defeat without a fight.
They are senile, morbid-.don't mix with them.
They are the death's leftover garbage in this world.
They are diseased from the inside,
they see only darkness around them.
With eyes closed, even when they see light,
they say, 'This is not light.'


For those with intense, unshakeable confidence,
waves of youth and life flow melodiously.
They enliven the dead earth-bountiful
with crops, flowers and fruits.
Nothing can block their way.


Fearless-any defeat is their ladder to heaven.
The darker the days, the more they see the light of hope.
Go to them-they wear the amulets
of fearlessness and victory over death.


Those who can imagine loftily, dream nobly,



they are the ones who bring welfare to the earth.
They show the paths of exploring the impossible,
even angels abide by them.


Possessing soul, yet allowing themselves
to suffer bodily pain,
not vowing their lives against the oppressorthey
are like caged animals, not human beings,
their hopelessness leads all human hopes and faith
to dissolution.


Possessing hands and feet, yet sitting inert
hiding faces in a dark muddy hole out of fearthey
have disavowed their humanity.
They belong to burial and cremation groundsnot
amongst us.


I say, listen people, lead a life of fulfillment.
You'll see, the earth is shaken by its power!
This is the message of God: 'Human beings get
what they wish for.'
Their hands, feet, eyes become God's own.


If hopes are lofty, and so are the efforts to achieve them,
then victory awaits at the door.
Impatience never overtakes that soldier
even at times of great difficulties.
Determined, calm, engrossed is the pioneer hero.


He replaces gloom with divine joy.
Like the moon, his love moves the sea of humanity.
His heart is filled with courage.
March along with him on that path of victory!


Have faith- you will get what you hope for!
And don't touch him-he's dead-one
who has lost faith.


[Original: Bishshash o Asha; Translation: Sajed Kamal]

Evening Star

Oh, dear evening star
Whose bride art thou with veils,
In the glances of your eyes,
Whose forgotten face dwells?


Evening lamp, with a veiI to hide,
And casting glances at this bride,
Though often her looks quiver,
This goes on for ever.


Whose lost bride is she?
At dusk, mute and beside me,
To arouse the yearning for a home,
In the heart of a homeless wanderer.


Perpetually you rise and sink,
With a tender pallid wink,
For whom, you heavenly bride?
Where does your beloved abide!


[Translation: Syed Mujibul Huq]

Coward


I know,
Why you do not look back
You have left your abode
For the temple of God
To while away the time
With the dolls.


And to flitter the self away
Oh dear,
Not knowing that playing with heart:
Leads up to endless tears.


So great is the debt
When the eyes meet, |
And the moments smack.
I know,
Why you do not look back.


I know,
Why you do not look back.
When the eyes get lost In the eyes.
And the word slowly dies..


When you are all alone.
In the sanctum of your home
There is collyrium In your bright eyes
And not the tears.
No deceit rings
In the anklets you wear.


As you walk,
I know,
Why you do hot look back
I know,
Why you do not look back,
When no creepers
On your feet roll
As you stroll,
In the wilderness.
You plucked flowers
In sheer absent mindness,
Without hurting your fingers.


Not knowing the truth either
That, with the garlands
The heart also withers.
Not knowing that
Behind a scurrilous mouth,
A loneliness lurks.
I know,
Why you do not look back.



I am conscious
Of your deceitfulness and skill
But you never knew, indeed
That on your cheeks,
There is a hue
Of pomegranate seeds.


Never knew that,
The timid hearts of women,
Like a creeper laden with a bee,
For those untold words and the denials
Shiver in agony.


And as much as the eye wails
The modesty prevails;
I know you coward,
Why your own image
That you unwittingly fear.


Of man, you have known,
And he is a stone
To whom you never bowed.
You have desired
A pair of covetous hands
And bowed to touch the feet,
Not knowing though
A heart becomes a touch-stone
With another touch on it.
I know coward
Why you wander.


I know what is your fear
When the desires of the heart
In the two shores of body whisper.


The fragrance of
A blooming heart
The petals can never thwart.
However much you wish to hide,
It breaks far and wide.


All the secret words
Have gathered in you dear
I know what is your fear.


I know,
Why you cannot say openly:
The nightingale has carried
The message secretly.


The words you wanted to hear,
How did she know of it, oh dear?



The same words
The bride murmured
Gently raising her eyes:
Who knew that in her cruel fingers
Such magic lies.
I know,
Why you cannot say openly.


I know,
Why no ornaments you wear
The flame of agony
Has burnt your flesh Into gold oh dear!
To adorn a doll
Of clay with attire?
Why should gold
Mere gold desire?


Leaving the shores of the body
The mind seeks purity.
The agony of mine, oh dear.
Now adorns your beauty
I know,
Why no ornament you wear.


I know
They will not abide;
The maiden
Who slept in the night
Woke up as a bride.


She swims with the foam
Not really knowing
The oyster's home.
The pearl you have found


But the shell of the eyes
In the tears got drowned
When the burden
Is too heavy to bear,
The heart also sinks
In utter despair.
Oh unlucky woman!
How shall you make it clear?


[Original: Bhiru; Translation: Syed Mujibul Huq]

Come with Hari

Come back to my dreary heart, do come back;
Evening comes too, where are you my bird,
come back to my nest.


Since the North Star did not see you,
it lost its track shedding tears in a sea of suffering;
Come back to my empty temple,
accompanied with Hari,
who stole and seduced you.


[Original: Fire ay ore fire; Translation: Mohammad Nurul Huda]

Come on Quick go to Madina

Come on quick those who wish
To the city of Madina to go:
At the Landing-ghat is already in
The sacred boat with virtues filled!


Abu Bakr and Umar Khattab,
Usman and All Haider,
They are the sailers true of the golden boat
No fear for you, sinners! No fear any more!


The Captain of this Boat is Ahmad.
The sailors all are seasoned hands.
Hearken to the chorus they sing:
There is no god but God!
No nervousness please
In this sea of sins
Despite the tempest
That may hoot and hiss!


Those who have the Fare of Faith,
Let them come to this golden boat;
Anchoring at the kalima's Port,
Trailing the Rope of Dispensation!
From the Hurs and Fairies in Heaven
For you all this invitation!


[Original in Bangla: Jabi ke Madinay; Translation: Mizanur Rahman]

A Parting

It was no passing encounter on the street,
dear friend.
It was no momentary conversation
on the side-walk.
It was no casual handclasp
at the sudden close of a trip.
You came close to our soul
unfolding yourself moment by moment.
You came not as a conqueror
but as a comrade.
With your smile you won
our hearts.
You did not occupy the throne
and become a king
You entrenched yourself in our hearts
and became a sovereign there.
And so you suffered more than us
when the time came
to say goodbye and depart,
Through timeless acquaintance
you had become one of our own.
Now in our million bleeding hearts
you will forever live as a
tender grief.
I know I'll see you again,
dear friend.
Ours was no casual meeting
on the side-walk.

[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

The wide ocean of tears overflow,
His frantic thunder will make a
volcano burst forth
Mountain and ocean and sky and air
will encircle him in a cyclic dance,
for shame! Mother, why shouldst thou weep
plaintively like that?
Rather recite to me some lay heard
by thee from him.
And listening let me fall asleep on thy lap.
But who knocks at the door?
Is it the storm that strikes like him?
O West Wind' Wild West Wind!
Thy friend is on the other side of the sea.
He shall not come where I do exist.
Gone is he to that land where falleth not my shadow.
Why, still, from time to-time,
Do I feel inclined to call him?
To whom should I breathe what remains
still unsaid by me?
O Mother, my heart's anguish doth struggle
hard on the threshold of my boso
Adieu! Adieu! Speak to him of me
if thou dost meet him?
A King's offering can a beggar-maid.
ever refuse it?
I know. I know, Mother,
My offended lover, shall come again
In search of me at dead of night
to this door of our cottage,
Tell him then I am lost in darkness
in search of him alone!


[Translation: Abdul Hakim]

A Call from Behind

Dear! Wilt thou remember me in thy new home?
There dost thou begin the world under
new auspices with new offerings

Deserted is now the leafy cottage; its
shady neighborhood where we two
first exchanged our looks, where
every particle of dust, every.
creeper and leaf is redolent
of the wealth of eternal acquaintance
in the worship of hearts,

And a dismal void now cries in the wilderness.
As didst thou forget me, many a man could
come to thee,
Then out of sympathy for me would that
cottage weep out an offended heart,
Wherever dist thou turn thy eyes,
my reminiscences there made thy heart ache,
Thou wilt drown that reproach here

in the depths of new field;
I alone am lost in the woods' of oblivion.
The distance between thee and me was so

long no real distance,
As that old mansion would bring my

distance into nearness.
Now hast thou formed new ties,
Opened a new fountain of laughter and tears,
New performance and new revelry of song,
Under the impulse of new welcome!
To the cold storage my own tune is consigned.
Dear! Mine is today forlorn hope, as

pre-ordained by the divinity,
Today on my grave will be built thy bridal

sanctum sanatorium
In the air is echoed and re-echoed
The music of the Sylvan flute in the mouth

of some cow-herd,
Lost, lost am I in the western horizon!
Farewell, Dear, our role comes to an end

with the setting sun,
Now art thou a new one in a new home!

[Translation: Abdul Hakim]

Within this Earthen Vessel

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.'

Where do you search me

Moko Kahan Dhundhere Bande
Mein To Tere Paas Mein
Na Teerath Mein, Na Moorat Mein
Na Ekant Niwas Mein
Na Mandir Mein, Na Masjid Mein
Na Kabe Kailas Mein
Mein To Tere Paas Mein Bande
Mein To Tere Paas Mein
Na Mein Jap Mein, Na Mein Tap Mein
Na Mein Barat Upaas Mein
Na Mein Kiriya Karm Mein Rehta
Nahin Jog Sanyas Mein
Nahin Pran Mein Nahin Pind Mein
Na Brahmand Akas Mein
Na Mein Prakuti Prawar Gufa Mein
Nahin Swasan Ki Swans Mein
Khoji Hoye Turat Mil Jaoon
Ik Pal Ki Talas Mein
Kahet Kabir Suno Bhai Sadho
Mein To Hun Viswas Mein

English Translation:

Where do you search me?
I am with you
Not in pilgrimage, nor in icons
Neither in solitudes
Not in temples, nor in mosques
Neither in Kaba nor in Kailash
I am with you O man
I am with you
Not in prayers, nor in meditation
Neither in fasting
Not in yogic exercises
Neither in renunciation
Neither in the vital force nor in the body
Not even in the ethereal space
Neither in the womb of Nature
Not in the breath of the breath
Seek earnestly and discover
In but a moment of search
Says Kabir, Listen with care
Where your faith is, I am there.

When The Day Came

When the Day came -
The Day I had lived and died for -
The Day that is not in any calendar -
Clouds heavy with love
Showered me with wild abundance.
Inside me, my soul was drenched.
Around me, even the desert grew green.

When He Himself Reveals Himself

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!

To what shore would you cross

To what shore would you cross,
O my heart?
there is no traveller before you,
there is no road:
Where is the movement,
where is the rest,
on that shore?


There is no water; no boat, no boatman, is there;


There is not so much as a rope to tow the boat, nor a man to draw it.
No earth, no sky, no time, no thing, is there: no shore, no ford!


There, there is neither body nor mind:
and where is the place that shall still the thirst of the soul?
You shall find naught in that emptiness.
Be strong, and enter into your own body:
for there your foothold is firm.
Consider it well,
O my heart!
go not elsewhere,
Kabîr says: 'Put all imaginations away,
and stand fast in that which you are.'

To be a Slave of Intensity

Friend, hope for the guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think...and think...while you are alive.
What you call 'salvation' belongs to the time before death.


If you don't break your ropes while you're alive,
do you think
ghosts will do it after?


The idea that the soul will join with the ecstatic
Just because the body is rotten that
is all fantasy.
What is found now is found then.
If you find nothing now,
you will simply end up with an apartment in the City of Death.
If you make love with the divine now, in the next life you will have the face of satisfied
desire.


So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,
Believe in the Great Sound!

Kabir says this: When the guest is being searched for, it is the intensity of the longing
for the Guest that does all the work.
Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.

The Word

Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.

The Swan flies away

The Swan Will Fly Away All Alone,
Spectacle of the World Will Be a Mere Fair
As the Leaf Falls from the Tree
Is Difficult to Find
Who Knows Where it Will Fall
Once it is Struck with a Gust Of Wind
When Life Span is Complete
Then Listening to Orders, Following Others, Will Be Over
The Messengers of Yama are Very Strong
It's an Entanglement with the Yama
Servant Kabir Praises the Attributes of the Lord
He Finds the Lord Soon
Guru Will Go According to His Doings
The Disciple According to His!

The self forgets itself

The self forgets itself
as a frantic dog in a glass temple
barks himself to death;
as a lion, seeing a form in the well,
leaps on the image;
as a rutting elephant sticks his tusk
in a crystal boulder.
The monkey has his fistful of sweets
and won't let go. So
from house to house
he gibbers.
Kabir says, parrot-on-a-pole:
who has caught you?

The Moon Shines In My Body

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.

The Lord Is In Me

The Lord is in me, and the Lord is in you,
As life is hidden in every seed.
So rubble your pride, my friend,
And look for Him within you.


When I sit in the heart of His world
A million suns blaze with light,
A burning blue sea spreads across the sky,
Life's turmoil falls quiet,
All the stains of suffering wash away.


Listen to the unstruck bells and drums!
Love is here; plunge into its rapture!
Rains pour down without water;
Rivers are streams of light.


How could I ever express
How blessed I feel
To revel in such vast ecstasy
In my own body?


This is the music
Of soul and soul meeting,
Of the forgetting of all grief.
This is the music
That transcends all coming and going