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Reply to "Classic Spring Poems"

Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth, there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself, there the streams of light flow in all directions;
Few are the men who can cross to that shore!
There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded,
Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads,
Where millions of Brahmas are reading the Vedas,
Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation.
Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
Where the demi-gods and the munis are outnumbered,
Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play on the vina-
There is my Lord self-revealed; and
the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps.

Songs of Kabir,
translated by Rabindranath Tagore


Last edited by Inda
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