Looking at the grinding stones, Kabir laments
In the duel of wheels, nothing stays intact.
searching for the wicked, met not a single one
When searched myself, ‘I’ found the wicked one
Tomorrows work do today, today’s work anon
if the moment is lost, when will the work be done
Speak such words, sans ego’s ploy
Body remains composed, giving the listener joy
Slowly slowly O mind, everything in own pace happens
Gardner may water a hundred buckets, fruit arrives only in its season
Give so much O God, suffice to envelop my clan
I should not suffer cravings, nor the visitor goes unfed
In vain is the eminence, just like a date tree
No shade for travelers, fruit is hard to reach
Like seed contains the oil, fire in flint stone
Your heart seats the Divine, realize if you can
Kabira in the market place, wishes welfare of all
Neither friendship nor enmity with anyone at all
Reading books everyone died, none became any wise
One who reads the words of Love, only becomes wise
In anguish everyone prays to Him, in joy does none
To One who prays in happiness, how sorrow can come
