With Girdhar am I deep in love, O Lord, in love with Girdhar.

With the five colours dye my veil, my maidens: I go to play my part in the band of mummers.
There in the mumming my love will meet me: and Him will I embrace.

Prepare the lamp of understanding: set the wick of mind in it.
From the shop of love bring oil: tend the lamp's waking flame by night and day.

They whose loves live far away, writing and writing they send their missives.
Within her heart dwells Mira's love: No whither needs she go or come.

O East, by the Loved One's dwelling To fare deny thou not
And news to the wretched lover From there deny thou not.

In thanks that thou thus hast blossomed, O rose, to thy heart's desire,
To the bird of the morning union's Sweet air deny thou not.

Henceforth, since the fount of sweetness Thy lip of ruby is,
The parrot thy speech's sugar To share deny thou not.

The love of thee was my housemate, Whilst yet thou a new moon wast,
And now thou'rt at full, thy favour, O fair, deny thou not.

The world and all that is in it A trifling matter is;

In all the clouds he sees her light robes trail,
And roses seem beholden to her face;
O'er scented balustrade the scented gale
Blows warm from Spring, and dew-drops form apace.
Her outline on the mountain he can trace,
Now leans she from the tower in moonlight pale.

A flower-girt branch grows sweeter from the dew.
A spirit of snow and rain unheeded calls.
Who wakes to memory in these palace walls?
Fei-yen!—but in the robes an Empress knew.

The most renowned of blossoms, most divine
Of those whose conquering glances overthrow

The secret of the love of thee In this our brain still turneth.
Behold, how many a thing in this Our head insane still turneth!

If in thy tress-tip's mallet-crook A man his heart adventure,
Certes, ball-wise, from head to foot Awhirl, the swain still turneth.

Though that heart-charmer cruelly And falsely with us dealeth,
Natheless, our heart, to hope and faith True, in her train still turneth.

For heav'n's oppression and the rage Of Time, the shirt of patience
Upon my body to a vest, Rended in twain, still turneth.

Of thy love the young shoot Of amazement there cometh;
Of thine union the fruit Of amazement there cometh.

How many an one, plunged in the ocean of union,
To the nethermost root Of amazement there cometh!

Enjoyment abideth not, neither enjoyer,
Whereas the repute Of amazement there cometh

From what side soever whereunto I hearken,
The clamour and bruit Of amazement there cometh.

Nay, show me one heart, whereupon, in her pathway,
No mole, at the suit Of amazement, there cometh.

Minstrel Love with voice and ghittern Wondrous skill possesseth:
All he soundeth its especial Fashion still possesseth.

Be the world of lovers' plaining Never void, for virtue
Joy-imparting that its cadence Sweet and shrill possesseth.

Though nor gold he hath nor puissance, Our dreg-draining elder
None the less a Lord gift-giving, Cov'ring ill, possesseth.

Dear my heart hold; for enamoured Since this sugar-craving
Fly of thee is, it the Huma's Pomp at will possesseth.

'Twere but justice if a monarch Of his neighbour question,

See, in the world all love proves false.
On their own happiness all are set; each on his own, be it wife, be it friend.
" Mine, mine, " cry all: the mind is chained to self-regard.
At the last none is thy companion: passing strange is this, their way.
O foolish heart, still thou perceivest not: with teaching thee the law my strength is gone.
O Nanak, he alone will cross the world-ocean, who sings the songs of Hari.

The love of a youngling maid In my head grown white hath fallen;
The secret that in my heart I hid Into light hath fallen.

The bird of my heart took wing And followed the path of vision;
But see in whose snare, o eye, The wretch, in its flight, hath fallen!

In my liver, the musk-pod like, How much heart's blood (woe worth it!)
For love of that black-eyed fawn, That musk-deer bright, hath fallen!

From passage along the dust Of thy street each musk-pod cometh,
That into the hand of the breeze Of ended night hath fallen.

Fix on thy Lord thy love, O mind, fix on the Lord thy love.

So great a chance to-morrow will not bring again: this chance once lost will pass away.
In gazing on the beauty of the body be not charmed: it is but a wall of sand.

Happiness and wealth are but words in a dream, as dew upon, the stubble.
The deed which wins the eternal Word; O friend, perform that deed.

All, who sought refuge, He has drawn to safety: this is the manner of the Lord.
Kabir says, Hear, O brother Sadhus, depart victorious over the hosts of dread.

Who with a bridle strives to curb the waves?
Or in a cypresse chest locks flaming fires?
So when love angred in thy bosome raves,
And grief with love a double flame inspires,
By silence thou mayst adde, but never lesse it:
The way is by expressing to represse it.

Who then will blame affection not respected,
To vent in grief the grief that so torments him?
Passion will speak in passion, if neglected:
Love that so soon will chide, as soon repents him;
And therefore boyish Love's too like a boy,
With a toy pleas'd, displeased with a toy.