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XCVIII

II. 98. ritu phâgun niyarânî

THE month of March draws near: ah, who will unite me to my Lover?
How shall I find words for the beauty of my Beloved? For He is merged in all beauty.
His colour is in all the pictures of the world, and it bewitches the body and the mind.
Those who know this, know what is this unutterable play of the Spring. {p. 144}
Kabîr says: "Listen to me, brother' there are not many who have found this out."


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