I.9. na jane sahab kaisa hai I DO NOT KNOW what manner of God is mine. The Mullah cries aloud to Him: and why? Is your Lord deaf? The subtle anklets that ring on the feet of an insect when it moves are heard of Him. Tell your beads, paint your forehead with the mark of your God, and wear matted locks long and showy: but a deadly weapon is in your heart, and how shall you have God?
WE CAME hither together, friend, and now at the cross-roads I stop to bid you farewell. Your path is wide and straight before you, but my call comes up by ways from the unknown. I shall follow wind and cloud; I shall follow the stars to where day breaks behind the hills; I shall follow lovers who, as they walk, twine their days into a wreath on a single thread of song, I love.