III. 110. carkha calai surat virahin ka THE WOMAN who is parted from her lover spins at the spinning wheel. The city of the body arises in its beauty; and within it the palace of the mind has been built. The wheel of love revolves in the sky, and the seat is made of the jewels of knowledge: What subtle threads the woman weaves, and makes them fine with love and reverence! Kabir says: I am weaving the garland of day and night. When my Lover comes and touches me with His feet, I shall offer Him my tears.
THOU HAST done well, my lover, thou hast done well to send me thy fin of pain. For my incense never yields its perfume till it burns, and my lamp is blind till it is lighted. When my mind is numb its torpor must be stricken by thy love' lightning; and the very darkness that blots my world burns like a torch when set afire by thy thunder.
