III. 90. naihar se jiyara phat re
MY HEART cries aloud for the house of my lover; the open road and the shelter of a roof are all one to her who has lost the city of her husband.
My heart finds no joy in anything: my mind and my body are distraught.
His place has a million gates, but there is a vast ocean between it and me:
How shall I cross it, O friend? for endless is the outstretching of the path.
How wondrously this lyre is wrought! When its strings are rightly strung, it maddens the heart: but when the keys are broken and the strings are loosened, none regard it more.
I tell my parents with laughter that I must go to my Lord in the morning;
They are angry, for they do not want me to go, and they say: 'She thinks she has gained such dominion over her husband that she can have
whatsoever she wishes; and therefore she is impatient to go to him.'
Dear friend, lift my veil lightly now; for this is the night of love.
Kabir says: 'Listen to me! My heart is eager to meet my lover: I lie sleepless upon my bed. Remember me early in the morning!'