Kabir - The Divine Bird Poem by Michael Maxwell Steer

In this tree a single bird
with dancing song-almost unheard-
swoops & thrills its deepest leaves
with the enchanting tune she weaves.

Who knows its purpose? For at night
she comes, and leaves by dawn's first light.
For whom she sings, if not for me,
who knows? It may be nobody.

Suddenly present, as if from nowhere …
she may as quickly disappear.
I was not told about this tree,
far less the bird - nor have I seen

either its colour or its form,
nor e'en what dance it may perform;
yet its etheric call I hear -
its ballet, tho unseen, is clear.

Beside an abandoned path, this place
is missed by those who're ruled by haste.
Few there are who know the way,
and fewer still who choose to stay.

Fellow seeker, Kabir says,
don't invite the race of fools
who'll drown the songs and cut the branches;
rather, merely leave them clues.

One or two within your days
may note your path and share your gaze:
them embrace without a word -
for in their silence sings that bird.


Original poem by the 15thC mystical poet Kabir (Bk2: 95) , translated by Rabindranath Tagore and Kshiti Mohan Sen (#33) . Versed by MMS 10/11/10