Page:One Hundred Poems Kabir (1915).djvu/68

22 Wonderful is that land of rest, to which no merit can win ;

It is the wise who has seen it, it is the wise who has sung of it.

This is the Ultimate Word : but can any express its marvellous savour ? He who has savoured it once, he knows what joy it can give.

Kabir says : " Knowing it, the ignorant man becomes wise, and the wise man becomes speechless and silent,

The worshipper is utterly inebriated,

His wisdom and his detachment are made perfect;

He drinks from the cup of the inbreathings and the outbreathings of love."

There the whole sky is filled with sound, and there that music is made without fingers and without strings ;