Love's not grown in gardens;
Love's not sold at market.
He who wants it, king or commoner,
gives his head and takes it.
Studying great books many have died
none ever becomes learned.
Two letters and a half in love,
who studies them is learning.
Narrow is the lane of love.
Two will never fit.
When I was, the Lord was not.
Now He is; I am not.
Kabir says: clouds of love
came on me showering;
Soaked the heart
greening the inner jungle.
A heart dry of love;
God again untasted.
This is man in this world;
His arising wasted.
Roused, ecstatic with His name,
love-drunk, overflowing,
reveling in His vision
Why bother with liberation?
Tale of love, untellable.
Not a bit is ever told.
The sweets of a dumb one -
he enjoys and smiles.
Love's not sold at market.
He who wants it, king or commoner,
gives his head and takes it.
Studying great books many have died
none ever becomes learned.
Two letters and a half in love,
who studies them is learning.
Narrow is the lane of love.
Two will never fit.
When I was, the Lord was not.
Now He is; I am not.
Kabir says: clouds of love
came on me showering;
Soaked the heart
greening the inner jungle.
A heart dry of love;
God again untasted.
This is man in this world;
His arising wasted.
Roused, ecstatic with His name,
love-drunk, overflowing,
reveling in His vision
Why bother with liberation?
Tale of love, untellable.
Not a bit is ever told.
The sweets of a dumb one -
he enjoys and smiles.
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