Hinduism

Songs of Kabir, LXIV

Now hard it is to meet my Lord!
The rain-bird wails in thirst for the rain: almost she dies of
her longing, yet she would have none other water than the
rain.
Drawn by the love of music, the deer moves forward: she dies as
she listens to the music, yet she shrinks not in fear.
The widowed wife sits by the body of her dead husband: she is not
afraid of the fire.
Put away all fear for this poor body.

Source Songs of Kabir, trad. Rabindranath Tagore, 1915, Project Gutenberg #6519 · Contents