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　　CHAPTER LXXXV

　　III. 90. naihar se jiyarâ phât re

　　My heart cries aloud for the house of my lover; the open road and

　　the shelter of a roof are all one to her who has lost the city

　　of her husband.

　　My heart finds no joy in anything: my mind and my body are

　　distraught.

　　His palace has a million gates, but there is a vast ocean between

　　it and me:

　　How shall I cross it, O friend? for endless is the outstretching

　　of the path.

　　How wondrously this lyre is wrought! When its strings are

　　rightly strung, it maddens the heart: but when the keys are

　　broken and the strings are loosened, none regard it more.

　　I tell my parents with laughter that I must go to my Lord in the

　　morning;

　　They are angry, for they do not want me to go, and they say: "She

　　thinks she has gained such dominion over her husband that she

　　can have whatsoever she wishes; and therefore she is impatient

　　to go to him."

　　Dear friend, lift my veil lightly now; for this is the night of

　　love.

　　Kabîr says: "Listen to me! My heart is eager to meet my lover: I

　　lie sleepless upon my bed. Remember me early in the morning!" Songs of Kabir