Kabir (1440 - 1518 / Pratapgar, Uttar Pradesh, India)
Between the Poles of the Conscious
BETWEEN the poles of the conscious and the unconscious, there has the mind made a swing:
Thereon hang all beings and all worlds, and that swing never ceases its sway.
Millions of beings are there: the sun and the moon in their courses are there:
Millions of ages pass, and the swing goes on.
All swing! the sky and the earth and the air and the water; and the Lord Himself taking form:
And the sight of this has made Kabîr a servant.
Poet Other Poems
- Abode of the Beloved
- Are you looking for me?
- Between the Poles of the Conscious
- Brother, I've Seen Some
- Chewing slowly
- Do Not Go To The Garden Of Flowers
- Friend, Hope For The Guest While You Are...
- Friend, Wake Up! Why Do You Go On Sleepi...
- Hang Up The Swing Of Love Today!
- Having Crossed The River
- He's That Rascally Kind Of Yogi
- Hey brother, why do you want me to talk?
- Hiding In This Cage
- His Death In Benares
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
New York, The Macmillan Company 1915
Comments about this poem (His Death In Benares by Kabir )
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