He's That Rascally Kind Of Yogi Poem by Kabir

He's That Rascally Kind Of Yogi

Rating: 3.3


He's that rascally kind of yogi
who has no sky or earth,
no hand, foot,
form or shape.
Where there's no market
he sets up shop,
weighs things
and keeps the accounts.
No deeds, no creeds,
no yogic powers,
not even a horn or gourd,
so how can he
go begging?

'I know you
and you know me
and I'm inside of you.'

When there isn't a trace
of creation or destruction,
what do you meditate on?
That yogi built a house
brimful of Ram.
He has no healing herbs,
his root-of-life
is Ram.

He looks and looks
at the juggler's tricks,
the magician's sleight-of-hand -
Kabir says, saints, he's made it
to the King's land.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Taken from The Bijak of Kabir, Translated by Linda Hess / Shukdeo Singh
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Dillip K Swain 20 May 2021

Words of true essence, value and substances!

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Dr Antony Theodore 01 March 2019

The great Kabir, such poets become immortal in their relationship with God. tony

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READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Kabir

Kabir

Pratapgar, Uttar Pradesh, India
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