****

Swan, tell me your old story.

What country have you come from, swan,
what shores are you flying to?

Where do you rest at night, and what are you looking for?

It's dawn swan, wake up, soar to the air, follow me!

There is a land not governed by sadness and doubt,
where the fear of death is unknown.

Spring forests bloom there and the wind is sweet
with the flower He-Is-Myself...

The bee of the Heart dives into it and wants no other joy.

~Kabir