One Hundred Poems of Kabir/LXVII
LXVII
I. 9. na jane sahab kaisa hai
naa jaanye teraa sahab kaisaa hai
mulla hokar baang jo dyeve,
kya tera sahab baharaa hai
keedee ke pag nevar baaje,
so bhee sahab suntaa hai
maalaa pheree tilak lagaayaa,
lambee jataa badhaataa hai,
antar tere Kuphar-kataaree,
yon nahin sahab miltaa hai
I do not know what manner of God is mine.
The Mullah cries aloud to Him: and why? Is your Lord deaf? The subtle anklets that ring on the feet of an insect when it moves are heard of Him.
Tell your beads, paint your forehead with the mark of your God, and wear matted locks long and showy: but a deadly weapon is in your heart, and how shall you have God?