Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale. From what land do you come, O Swan? to what shore will you fly? Where would you take your rest, O Swan, and what do you seek? Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me! There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule: where the terror of Death is no more. There the woods of spring are a-bloom, and the fragrant scent "He is I" is borne on the wind: There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed, and desires no other joy. XIII II. 37. _angadhiyâ devâ_ O Lord Increate, who will serve Thee? Every votary offers his worship to the God of his own creation: each day he receives service-- None seek Him, the Perfect: Brahma, the Indivisible Lord. They believe in ten Avatars; but no Avatar can be the Infinite Spirit, for he suffers the results of his deeds: The Supreme One must be other than this. The Yogi, the Sanyasi, the Ascetics, are disputing one with another: Kabîr says, "O brother! he who has seen that radiance of love, he is saved." XIV II. 56. _dariyâ kî lahar dariyâo hai jî_ The river and its waves are one surf: where is the difference between the river and its waves? When the wave rises, it is the water; and when it falls, it is the same water again. Tell me, Sir, where is the distinction? Because it has been named as wave, shall it no longer be considered as water? Within the Supreme Brahma, the worlds are being told like beads: Look upon that rosary with the eyes of wisdom. XV II. 57. _jânh khelat vasant riturâj_ Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth, there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself, There the streams of light flow in all directions; Few are the men who can cross to that shore! There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded, Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads, Where millions of Brahmâs are reading the Vedas, Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation, Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky, Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered, Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play on the vina-- There is my Lord self-revealed: and the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps. XVI II. 59. _jânh, cet acet khambh dôû_ Between the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the mind made a swing: Thereon hang all beings and all worlds, and that swing never ceases its sway. Millions of beings are there: the sun and the moon in their courses are there: Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on. All swing! the sky and the earth and the air and the water; and the Lord Himself taking form: And the sight of this has made Kabîr a servant. XVII II. 61. _grah candra tapan jot varat hai_