THE WIND is up, I set, my sail of songs, Steersman, sit at 'the helm. For my boat is fretting to be free, to dance in the rhythm of the wind and water. The day is spent, it is evening. My friends of the shore have taken leave. Loose the chain and heave the anchor, we sail by the starlight. The wind is stirred into the murmur of music at this time of my departure. Steersman, sit at the helm.
III. 63. kahain Katnr, suno ho sadho KABIR SAYS: 'O Sadhu! hear my deathless words. If you want your own good, examine and consider them well. You have estranged yourself from the Creator, of whom you have sprung: you have lost your reason, you have bought death. All doctrines and all teachings are sprung from Him, from Him they grow: know this for certain, and have no fear. Hear from me the tidings of this great truth! Whose name do you sing, and on whom do you meditate? O, come forth from this entanglement! He dwells at the heart of all things, so why take refuge in empty desolation? If you place the Gum at a distance from you, then it is but the distance that you honour: If indeed the Master be far away, then who is it else that is creating this world? When you think that He is not here, then you wander further and further away, and seek Him in vain with tears. Where He is far off, there He is unattainable: where He is near. He is very bliss. Kabir says: 'Lest His servant should suffer pain He pervades him through and through.' Know yourself then, O Kabir; for He is in you from head to foot, Sing with gladness, and keep your seat unmoved within your heart.
