I.5O. bhram ka tala laga mahal re THE LOCK of error shuts the gate, open it with the key of love: Thus, by opening the door, thou shalt wake the Beloved. Kabir says: 'O brother! do not pass by such good fortune as this.'
THE FLUTE-SOUND of a holiday music floats in the air. It is not the time for me to sit and brood alone. The shiuli branches shiver with the thrill of an impending flower-time, the touch of the dew is over the woodland. On the fairy web in the forest path the light and shadow feel each other. The tall grass sends waves of laughter to the sky in its flowers, and I gaze upon the horizon, seeking for my song.