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What comes out of the harp?
Music!
And there is a dance no hands or feet dance.
No fingers play it,
no ears hear it,
because the Holy One is the ear,
and the one listening too.
The great doors remain closed,
but the spring fragrance comes inside anyway,
and no one sees what takes place there.
Men and women who have entered
through both doors at once
will understand this poem.
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Have you heard the music that no fingers enter into?
Far inside the house entangled music—
What is the sense of leaving your house?
Suppose you scrub your ethical skin until it shines,
but inside there is no music,
then what?
Mohammed’s son pores over words,
and points out this and that,
but if his chest is not soaked dark with love,
then what?
The Yogi comes along in his famous orange.
But if inside he is colorless,
then what?
Kabir says:
Every instant that the sun is risen,
if I stand in the temple,
or on a balcony,
in the hot fields,
or in a walled garden,
my own Lord is making love with me