'Man laago mero yaar fakiri men'
Friend, my heart now rejoices in renunciation.
The bliss I've attained chanting the Lord's Name,
Through riches it can never be gained.
I go on with my poor living, not minding
What the people say - in praise or denunciation.
My dwelling is in the city of His love,
I seek solace in patient suffering.
A staff and a bowl in my hands, I roam around
I have my fiefdom in every direction.
O friend, in dust this life has to end,
Then why with pride you are puffed?
Says Kabir, listen, O wise one,
The Lord is met in contentment.
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