Showing posts with label Garden: Knowledge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Garden: Knowledge. Show all posts

Sunday, September 17, 2000

Garden: For work has no other aim...


For work has no other aim than the getting of KNOWLEDGE: when that comes, then work is put away. The flower blooms for the FRUIT: when the fruit comes, the flower withers.

Where to next: the KNOWLEDGE or the FRUIT?


[Source: RT 6 (partial); 1.83. candâ jhalkai yahi ghat mâhîn]

Here is the full poem:

VI

I. 83. candâ jhalkai yahi ghat mâhîn

  The moon shines in my body, but my blind eyes cannot see it:
  The moon is within me, and so is the sun.
  The unstruck drum of Eternity is sounded within me; but my deaf
    ears cannot hear it.
  So long as man clamours for the I and the Mine,
    his works are as naught:
  When all love of the I and the Mine is dead, then
    the work of the Lord is done.
  For work has no other aim than the getting of knowledge:
  When that comes, then work is put away.
  The flower blooms for the fruit: when the fruit comes, the flower
    withers.
  The musk is in the deer, but it seeks it not within itself: it
    wanders in quest of grass.



Garden: The woman who is parted...


The woman who is parted from her lover spins at the spinning wheel. The CITY of the body arises in its beauty, and within it the palace of the mind has been built. The wheel of love revolves in the SKY, and the seat is made of the jewels of knowledge: what subtle threads the woman weaves, and makes them fine with love and reverence!

Where to next: the CITY or the SKY?


[Source: RT 92 (partial); 3.110. carkhâ calai surat virahin kâ]

Here is the full poem:

XCII

III. 110. carkhâ calai surat virahin kâ

  The woman who is parted from her lover spins at the spinning
    wheel.
  The city of the body arises in its beauty; and within it the
    palace of the mind has been built.
  The wheel of love revolves in the sky, and the seat is made of
    the jewels of knowledge:
  What subtle threads the woman weaves, and makes them fine with
    love and reverence!
  Kabîr says: "I am weaving the garland of day and night. When my
    Lover comes and touches me with His feet, I shall offer Him my
    tears."