One Hundred Poems of Kabir/L
L
I. 126. murali bajat akhand sadayese
murali bajat akhand sada se, tahaan prem jhankaaraa hai
prem-hadd tajee jab bhaai, satt lok kee hadd puni aayee
uthat sugandh mahaa adhikaayee, jaako vaar n paaraa hai
koti bhaan raag ko roopaa, been sat-dhun bajye anoopaa
The flute of the Infinite is played without ceasing, and its sound is love:
When love renounces all limits, it reaches truth.
How widely the fragrance spreads! It has no end, nothing stands in its way.
The form of this melody is bright like a million suns: incomparably sounds the vina, the vina of the notes of truth.