THE Lover who is parted from her Beloved 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 lover weaves, and makes them fine with love and reverence !
Kabîr says: "I am weaving the garland of day and night. When my Beloved comes and touches me with His kiss, I shall offer Him my tears."
~ Kabir The Songs of Kabir, tr. by Rabindranath Tagore Art by Ekaterina Prozheyko |
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