Classic Poem

O Mind, why hast thou gone astray, my brother—where hast thou lost thy wit and wisdom?

We are as birds that roost throughout the night: they come and settle in the trees.
When morning comes, they go their several ways—this way and that they fly away.

In your dream you are crowned: your sovereignty and rule proclaimed.
You awake; there is no camp, no-army: the instant your eyes open, sense returns.

Mother, father, brother, sons, wife—kinsfolk, kinship there is none.
For their own profit is this fellowship: the praise of this world is false.

In the wide ocean waves arise—they cannot be counted or numbered.
Kabìr says, Hear, O brother Sádhus—in that same ocean they sink back once more.