One Hundred Poems by Kabir/9
IX
I. 104. aisā lo nahīn taisā lo
O how may I ever express that secret word ?
O how can I say He is not like this, and He is like that ?
If I say that He is within me, the universe is ashamed:
If I say that He is without me, it is falsehood.
He makes the inner and the outer worlds to be indivisibly one;
The conscious and the unconscious, both are His footstools.
He is neither manifest nor hidden, He is neither revealed nor unrevealed:
There are no words to tell that which He is.