The Yogi dyes his garments, instead of dyeing his mind in the colours of love: He sits within the temple of the Lord, leaving Brahma to worship a stone. He pierces holes in his ears, he has a great beard and matted locks, he looks like a goat: He goes forth into the wilderness, killing all his desires, and turns himself into an eunuch: He shaves his head and dyes his garments; he reads the Gîtâ and becomes a mighty talker. Kabîr says: "You are going to the doors of death, bound hand and foot!" LXVII I. 9. _nâ jâne sâhab kaisâ 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? LXVIII III. 102. _ham se rahâ na jây_ I hear the melody of His flute, and I cannot contain myself: The flower blooms, though it is not spring; and already the bee has received its invitation. The sky roars and the lightning flashes, the waves arise in my heart, The rain falls; and my heart longs for my Lord. Where the rhythm of the world rises and falls, thither my heart has reached: There the hidden banners are fluttering in the air. Kabîr says: "My heart is dying, though it lives." LXIX III. 2. _jo khodâ masjid vasat hai_ If God be within the mosque, then to whom does this world belong? If Ram be within the image which you find upon your pilgrimage, then who is there to know what happens without? Hari is in the East: Allah is in the West. Look within your heart, for there you will find both Karim and Ram; All the men and women of the world are His living forms. Kabîr is the child of Allah and of Ram: He is my Guru, He is my Pir. LXX III. 9. _s'îl santosh sadâ samadrishti_ He who is meek and contented., he who has an equal vision, whose mind is filled with the fullness of acceptance and of rest; He who has seen Him and touched Him, he is freed from all fear and trouble. To him the perpetual thought of God is like sandal paste smeared on the body, to him nothing else is delight: His work and his rest are filled with music: he sheds abroad the radiance of love. Kabîr says: "Touch His feet, who is one and indivisible, immutable and peaceful; who fills all vessels to the brim with joy, and whose form is love." LXXI III. 13. _sâdh sangat pîtam_