One Hundred Poems Of Kabir

Rabindranath Tagore

• Publisher: Obscure Press
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781528769624
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Poetry
• Index: Literature

Originally published in 1915, this collection features a selection of songs by the poet Kabir, one of the most interesting personalities in the history of Indian mysticism. Author: Rabindranath Tagore Language: English Keywords: Literature / Poetry / Hinduism Many of the earliest books, particularly those dating back to the 1900s and before, are now extremely scarce and increasingly expensive. Obscure Press are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions, using the original text and artwork. Contents Include: First Edition February 1915 THE poet Kabir, a selection from whose songs is here for the first time offered to English readers, is one of the most interesting personalities in the history of Indian mysticism. Born in or near Benares, of Mohammedan parents, and probably about the year 1440, he became in early life a disciple of the celebrated Hindu ascetic Rama nanda. Ramananda had brought to Northern India the religious revival which Ramanuja, the great twelfth century reformer of Brahmanism, had initiated in the South. This revival was in part a reaction against the increasing formalism of the orthodox cult, in part an assertion of the de mands of the heart as against the intense intellectualism of the Vedanta philosophy, the exaggerated monism which that philosophy proclaimed. It took in Ramanujas preaching the form of an ardent personal devotion to the God Vishnu, as representing the personal aspect of the Divine Nature: that mystical ct religion of love which everywhere makes its appearance at a certain level of spiritual culture, and which creeds and philosophies are powerless to kill. Though such a devotion is in digenous. in Hinduism, and finds expression in many passages of the Bhagavad Gita, there was in its mediaeval revival a large element of syncretism. Ramananda, through whom its spirit is said to have reached Kabir, appears to have been a man of wide religious culture, and full of rnissionary enthusiasm. Living at the moment in which the impassioned poetry and deep philosophy of the great Persian mystics, Attar, Sadi, Jalaluddin Rumi, and Hafiz, were exercising a powerful influence on the religious thought of India, he dreamed of reconciling this intense and personal Mohammedan mysticism with the traditional theology of Brah monism. Some have regarded both. these great religious leaders as in fluenced also by Christian thought and life: but as this is a point upon which. competent authorities hold widely divergent views, its discussion is not attempted here. We may safely assert, however, that in their teach ings, twoperhaps threeapparently antagonistic streams of intense spiritual culture met, as Jewish and IIcllemstic thought met in the early Christian Church: and it is one of the outstanding characteristics of Kabirs genius that he was able in his poems to fuse them into one. A great religious reformer, the founder of a sect to which nearly a million northern Hindus still belong,. it is yet supremely as a mystical poet that Kabir lives for us.

I

I. 13.mo ko kahāṉ ḍhūṉṛo 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.

Kabir says, “O Sadhu! God is the breath of all breath.”

II

I. 16.santan jāt na pūcho nirguṇiyāṉ

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.sādho bhāī, jīvat hī karo āśā

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!

Kabir says: “It is the Spirit of the quest which helps; I am the slave of this Spirit of the quest.”

IV

I. 58.bāgo nā jā re nā jā

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.avadhū, māyā tajī na jāy

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.

Kabir says, “Listen to me, dear Sadhu! the true path is rarely found.”

VI

I. 83.candā jhalkai yahi ghaṭ māhīṉ

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.sādho, Brahm, alakh lakhāyā

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.

Kabir is blest because he has this supreme vision!

VIII

I. 101.is ghaṭ antar bāg bagīce

WITHIN this earthern 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.

Kabir says: “Listen to me, my friend! My beloved Lord is within.”

IX

I. 104.aisā lo nahīṉ taisā 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 lagāye re phakīr wā

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!

Kabir says, “Thou hast u...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Introduction
• Kabir’s Poems