Tag Archives: Kabir

BOOKS: “One Hundred Poems of Kabir (1915)” Translated by Rabindranath Tagore

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One Hundred Poems of KabirOne Hundred Poems of Kabir by Kabir
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

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Kabir was a fifteenth century Indian poet and mystic. This collection was translated by the Bengali Indian Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore, and Tagore’s stylistic imprint is felt in these poems. The poems are overwhelmingly of a mystic / spiritual nature. Kabir was non-sectarian but extremely oriented towards mystic belief. He references the Koran and Vedas alike, but is more likely to communicate in secular, if mystical, terms.

How much the godly emphasis works for the reader will vary greatly. For me it was a bit excessive, often reading more like prayers than poems, but your results may vary.

The only thing I found actually disturbing was the repeated romanticization of sati, a practice in use during Kabir’s lifetime in which widows would be burned alive on their husband’s funeral pyre. Kabir repeatedly writes of sati as if it was always a completely voluntary act of raw passion and connection and was never motivated by being old and destitute (not to mention being societally pressured or, even, physically forced into it.)

The poems are well composed and engaging, and if you can get past the periodic sati propaganda, it’s a pleasant, almost euphoric, read.

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“There Is a Bird in the Tree” by Kabir [w/ Audio]

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On this tree is a bird:
   It dances in the joy of life.
 No one knows where it is:
   And who knows what the burden
     Of its music may be?
 Where the branches throw a deep shade,
   There does it have its nest:
     And it comes in the evening 
     And flies away in the morning,
     And says not a word 
       Of that which it means.
 None tell me of this bird 
     That sings within me.
   It is neither coloured nor colourless:
   It has neither form nor outline:
   It sits in the shadow of love.
   It dwells within the Unattainable,
     The Infinite, and the Eternal;
       And no one marks 
         When it comes and goes.
 Kabir says, “O brother Sadhu! 
   Deep is the mystery. 
   Let wise men seek to know 
     where rests that bird.”

NOTE: This is the translation by Rabindranath Tagore from the 1915 text, One Hundred Poems of Kabir. This is poem #30 (XXX) of that volume.