সতীলোকে বসি আছে কত পতিব্রতা, পুরাণে উজ্জ্বল আছে যাঁহাদের কথা। আরো আছে শত লক্ষ অজ্ঞাতনামিনী খ্যাতিহীনা কীর্তিহীনা কত-না কামিনী-- কেহ ছিল রাজসৌধে কেহ পর্ণঘরে, কেহ ছিল সোহাগিনী কেহ অনাদরে; শুধু প্রীতি ঢালি দিয়া মুছি লয়ে নাম চলিয়া এসেছে তারা ছাড়ি মর্তধাম। তারি মাঝে বসি আছে পতিতা রমণী মর্তে কলঙ্কিনী, স্বর্গে সতীশিরোমণি। হেরি তারে সতীগর্বে গরবিনী যত সাধ্বীগণ লাজে শির করে অবনত। তুমি কী জানিবে বার্তা, অন্তর্যামী যিনি তিনিই জানেন তার সতীত্বকাহিনী।
INTRODUCTION THE POET Kabir, a selection from whose songs is here for the first time offered to English readers, is one of the most interesting personalities in the history of Indian mysticism. Born in or near Benares, of Mohammedan parents, and probably about the year 1440, he became in early life a disciple of the celebrated Hindu ascetic Ramananda. Ramananda had brought to Northern India the religious revival which Ramanuja, the great twelfth- century reformer of Brahmanism, had initiated in the South. This revival was in part a reaction against the increasing formalism of the orthodox cult, in part an assertion of the demands of the heart as against the intense intellectualism of the Vedanta philosophy, the exaggerated monism which that philosophy proclaimed. It took in Ramanuja's preaching the form of an ardent personal devotion to the God Vishnu, as representing the personal aspect of the Divine Nature: that mystical 'religion of love' which every- where makes its appearance at a certain level of spiritual culture, and which creeds and philosophies are powerless to kill. The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak: I know, for I have cried aloud to them. The Purana and the Koran are mere words: lifting up the curtain, I have seen.'
I.83. canda jhalkai yahi ghat mahin THE MOON shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it: The moon is within me, and so is the sun. The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf ears cannot hear it. So long as man clamours for the I and the Mine, his works are as naught: When all love of the I and the Mine is dead, then the work of the Lord is done. For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge: When that comes, then work is put away. The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower withers. The musk is in the deer, but it seeks it not within itself: it wanders in quest of grass.
