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.
LANGUOR is upon your heart and the slumber is still on your eyes. Has not the word come to you that the flower is reigning in splendour among thorns? Wake, oh awaken! Let not the time pass in vain! At the end of the stony path, in the country of virgin solitude my friend is sitting all alone. Deceive him not. Wake, oh awaken! What if the sky pants and trembles with the heat of the midday sun-what if the burning sand spreads its mantle of thirst- Is there no joy in the deep of your heart? At every footfall of yours, will not the harp of the road break out in sweet music of pain?
YOU WERE IN THE centre of my heart, therefore when my heart wandered she never found you; you hid yourself from my loves and hopes till the last, for you were always in them. You were the inmost joy in the play of my youth, and when I was too busy with the play the joy was passed by. You sang to me in the ecstasies of my life and I forgot to sing to you.
