II. 98. ritu phagun niyar ani THE MONTH of March draws near: ah, who will unite me to my Lover? How shall I find words for the beauty of my Beloved? For He is merged in all beauty. His colour is in all the pictures of the world, and it bewitches the body and the mind. Those who know this, know what is this unutterable play of the Spring. Kabir says: 'Listen to me, brother! there are not many who have found this out.'
IN THE WORLD'S dusty road I lost my heart, but you picked it up in your hand. I gleaned sorrow while seeking for joy, but the sorrow which you sent to me has turned to joy in my life. My desires were scattered in pieces, you gathered them and strung them in your love. And while I wandered from door to door, every step led me to your gate.