The Bees have flown, the cranes have settled: night is gone, day too will pass
The bees have flown, the cranes have settled: night is gone, day too will pass.
The maiden Jiva shivers and shudders: She knows not how her lover will receive her.
An unbaked pot retains not water: When the Swan departs, the body withers.
My arms are aching with scaring the crows. Kabir says, Now this tale is ended.
The maiden Jiva shivers and shudders: She knows not how her lover will receive her.
An unbaked pot retains not water: When the Swan departs, the body withers.
My arms are aching with scaring the crows. Kabir says, Now this tale is ended.
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