My brother kneels, so saith Kabir,
To stone and brass in heathen wise,
But in my brother’s voice I hear
My own unanswered agonies.
His God is as his fates assign,
His prayer is all the world’s–and mine.
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The Prayer
Poem
My brother kneels, so saith Kabir,
To stone and brass in heathen wise,
But in my brother’s voice I hear
My own unanswered agonies.
His God is as his fates assign,
His prayer is all the world’s–and mine.
