One Hundred Poems of Kabir/XXXIX
XXXIX
I. 59. sadho, yah tan thath tanvure ka
sadho, yah tan thath tanvure ka
ainchat taar marorat khoontee, niksat raag hajoore ka
toote taar bhikharge khoontee, ho gayaa dhooram-dhoore kaa
kahyen kabir suno bhaai saadho, agam panth kaayee soore kaa
O friend! this body is His lyre;
He tightens its strings, and draws from it the melody of Brahma.
If the strings snap and the keys slacken, then to dust must this instrument of dust return:
Kabir says: "None but Brahma can evoke its melodies."