Tell me, O Swan...

Tell me, O Swan, your ancient tale.
From what land do you come, O Swan?
To what shore will you fly?
Where would you take your rest, O Swan,
And what do you seek?

Even this morning, O Swan, awake, arise, follow me!
There is a land where no doubt nor sorrow have rule:
Where the terror of Death is no more.

There the woods of spring are a-bloom,
And the fragrant scent "He is I" is borne on the wind:
There the bee of the heart is deeply immersed,
And desires no other joy.

~ From Songs of Kabir, Translated by Rabindranath Tagore, 1916


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