Kiran Pal's Tiny Notes

Saturday, August 28, 2004

Floats on the Wind

There is a land where doubt and sorrows do not reign,
where the terror of death is unknown.
Its woods are floored with the flowers of spring,
and a fragrance, “I am He,” floats on the wind.
There, the bee of the heart is drowning in nectar
and desires no other joy.

- Saint Kabir