|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 !
"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."
The Songs of Kabir,
tr. by Rabindranath Tagore
Art by Ekaterina Prozheyko