I.22. jab main bhula, re bhai
O BROTHER when I was forgetful, my true Guru showed me the Way.
Then I left off all rites and ceremonies, I bathed no more in the holy water:
Then I learned that it was I alone who was mad, and the whole world beside me was sane; and I had disturbed these wise people.
From that time forth I knew no more how to roll in the dust in obeisance:
I do not ring the temple bell:
I do not set the idol on its throne:
I do not worship the image with flowers.
It is not the austerities that mortify the flesh which are pleasing to the Lord,
When you leave off your clothes and kill your senses, you do not please the Lord:
The man who is kind and who practises righteousness, who remains passive amidst the affairs of the world, who considers all creatures on earth as his own self,
He attains the Immortal Being, the true God is ever with him.
Kabir says: 'He attains the true Name whose words are pure, and who is free from pride and conceit.'

'SIRE,' ANNOUNCED the servant to the King, 'the saint Narottam has never deigned to enter your royal temple.
'He is singing God's praise under the trees by the open road. The temple is empty of worshippers.
'They flock round him like bees round the white lotus, leaving the golden jar of honey unheeded.'
The King, vexed at heart, went to the spot where Narottam sat on the grass.
He asked him, 'Father, why leave my temple of the golden dome and sit on the dust outside to preach God's love?'
'Because God is not there in your temple,' said Narottam.
The King frowned and said, 'Do you know, twenty millions of gold went to the making of that marvel of art, and it was consecrated to God with costly rites?'
'Yes, I know it,' answered Narottam. It was in that year when thousands of your people whose houses had been burned stood vainly asking for help at your door.
'And God said, "The poor creature who can give no shelter to his brothers would build my house!"
'And he took his place with the shelterless under the trees by the road.
'And that golden bubble is empty of all but hot vapour of pride.'
The King cried in anger, 'Leave my land.'
Calmly said the saint, 'Yes, banish me where you have banished my God.'

THE DAY is no more, the shadow is upon the earth. It is time that I go to the stream to fill my pitcher.
The evening air is eager with the sad music of the water. Ah, it calls me out into the dusk. In the lonely lane there is no passer by, the wind is up, the ripples are rampant in the river.
I know not if I shall come back home. I know not whom I shall chance to meet. There at the fording in the little boat the unknown man plays upon his lute.