Page:One Hundred Poems Kabir (1915).djvu/61

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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 how their heads,

Where millions of Brahmās 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 unnumbered,