II. 111. Narad, pyar so antar nahi OH NARAD! I know that my Lover cannot be far: When my Lover wakes, I wake: when He sleeps, I sleep. He is destroyed at the root who gives pain to my Beloved. Where they sing His praise, there I live; When He moves, I walk before Him: my heart yearns for my Beloved. The infinite pilgrimage lies at His feet, a million devotees are seated there. Kabir says: 'The Lover Himself reveals the glory of true love.'
THOU HAST done well, my lover, thou hast done well to send me thy fin of pain. For my incense never yields its perfume till it burns, and my lamp is blind till it is lighted. When my mind is numb its torpor must be stricken by thy love' lightning; and the very darkness that blots my world burns like a torch when set afire by thy thunder.