From certain hell,
Any more than a dip
In the Ganges will send
Frogs—or you—to paradise.
My home, says Kabir,
Is where there’s no day, no night,
And no holy book in sight
To squat on our lives.
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How do you,
Patrol a cityWhere the butcher shopsAre guarded by vultures;Where bulls get pregnant,Cows are barren,And calves give milkThree times a day;Where mice are boatmenAnd tomcats the boatsThey row;Where frogs keep snakesAs watchdogs,And jackalsGo after lions?Does anyone knowWhat I’m talking about?Says Kabir.
God is the tree in the forests that
with the ax, not wanting to cause themshame.And God is the earth that will allow itself tobe deformed by man’s tools, but He cries; yes, God cries,but only in front of His closest ones.And a beautiful animal is being beaten to death,but nothing can make God break His silenceto the massesand say,‘Stop, please stop, why…
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.
When he himself reveals himself,
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…
Hiding in this cage
is the invisiblelifebirdpay attentionto hershe is singingyour song
To what shore would you cross,
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…