Kabir

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

O How may I ever express that secret word?


O How may I ever express that secret word?
O how can I say He is not like this, and He is like that?
If I say that He is within me, the universe is ashamed:
If I say that He is without me, it is falsehood.
He makes the inner and the outer worlds to be indivisibly one;
The conscious and the unconscious, both are His footstools.
He is neither manifest nor hidden,
He is neither revealed nor unrevealed:
There are no words to tell that which He is.

Submitted: Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Edited: Wednesday, May 02, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

From: Songs Of Kabir
Translated by Rabindranath Tagore

New York, The Macmillan Company 1915

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