ham se rahâ na jây

I hear the melody of His flute, and I cannot contain myself: The flower blooms, though it is not spring; and already the bee has received its invitation. The sky roars and the lightning flashes, the waves arise in my heart, The rain falls; and my heart longs for my Lord. Where the rhythm of the world rises and falls, thither my heart has reached: There the hidden banners are fluttering in the air. Kabîr says: "My heart is dying, though it lives."