Saturday, March 1, 2014

The flute of the Infinite is played without ceasing, and its sound is love:
When love renounces all limits, it reaches truth.
How widely the fragrance spreads!  It has no end, nothing stands in its way.
The form of this melody is bright like a million suns; incomparably sound the vina, the vina of the notes of truth.

-- Kabir (trans. Rabindranath Tagore)
(in Poetry for the Spirit,
edited by Alan Jacobs)

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