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Kabir

(1440 - 1518 / Pratapgar, Uttar Pradesh, India)

My Swan, Let us Fly


My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.

That land has an up-ended well
Whose mouth, narrow as a thread,
The married soul draws water from
Without a rope or pitcher.

My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.

Clouds never cluster there,
Yet it goes on and on raining.
Don’t keep squatting outside in the yard –
Come in! Get drenched without a body!

My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.

That land is always soaked in moonlight;
Darkness can never come near it.
It is flooded always with the dazzle
Of not one, but a million suns.

My swan, let us fly to that land
Where your Beloved lives forever.

Submitted: Wednesday, May 02, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

From: Perfume of the Desert
~ Inspirations from Sufi Wisdom
Edited: Andrew Harvey and Eryk Hanut

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