O friend! this body is His lyre

by Kabir
Translated by Rabindranath Tagore (1915) · From Songs of Kabir, XXXIX

O friend! this body is His lyre; He tightens its strings, and draws from it the melody of Brahma.
If the strings snap and the keys slacken, then to dust must this instrument of dust return:
Kabîr says: "None but Brahma can evoke its melodies."

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This poem and this translation are in the public domain. Source text: Project Gutenberg.

More poems by Kabir

O servant, where dost thou seek Me?O servant, where dost thou seek Me?
It is needless to ask of a saint the casteIt is needless to ask of a saint the caste to which he belongs;
O friend! hope for Him whilst you liveO friend! hope for Him whilst you live, know whilst you live, understand whilst you live: for in life deliverance abides.
Do not go to the garden of flowers!Do not go to the garden of flowers!
The moon shines in my bodyThe moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it:
Within this earthen vessel are bowers and grovesWithin this earthen vessel are bowers and groves, and within it is the Creator:
The river and its waves are oneThe river and its waves are one surf: where is the difference between the river and its waves?
Between the poles of the conscious and the unconsciousBetween the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the mind made a swing:
Lamps burn in every houseLamps burn in every house, O blind one! and you cannot see them.
My Lord hides HimselfMy Lord hides Himself, and my Lord wonderfully reveals Himself:
On this tree is a birdOn this tree is a bird: it dances in the joy of life. None knows where it is: and who knows what the burden of its music may be?
Dance, my heart! dance to-day with joyDance, my heart! dance to-day with joy.
Where is the need of wordsWhere is the need of words, when love has made drunken the heart?
There is nothing but water at the holy bathing placesThere is nothing but water at the holy bathing places; and I know that they are useless, for I have bathed in them.
I laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirstyI laugh when I hear that the fish in the water is thirsty:
Who are you, and whence do you come?Who are you, and whence do you come?
That which you see is notThat which you see is not: and for that which is, you have no words.
The flute of the Infinite is played without ceasingThe flute of the Infinite is played without ceasing, and its sound is love:
What is that flute whose music thrills me with joyWhat is that flute whose music thrills me with joy?
Subtle is the path of love!Subtle is the path of love!
Why so impatient, my heart?Why so impatient, my heart?
I do not know what manner of God is mineI do not know what manner of God is mine.
If God be within the mosqueIf God be within the mosque, then to whom does this world belong?
The jewel is lost in the mudThe jewel is lost in the mud, and all are seeking for it;
Clouds thicken in the skyClouds thicken in the sky! O, listen to the deep voice of their roaring;
Beneath the great umbrella of my KingBeneath the great umbrella of my King millions of suns and moons and stars are shining!
The Lord is in meThe Lord is in me, the Lord is in you, as life is in every seed. O servant! put false pride away, and seek for Him within you.

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O friend! this body is His lyre

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