In medieval northern India, the bride would keep her face veiled during the wedding ceremony. After the wedding she would accompany her husband to her in-laws' house where the bride and groom would see each other for the first time. Using this as an analogy, Kabir says that the soul has come to the world with her Husband, the Lord, and resides with Him in the same house of the human body; but she has never met Him, for the dark curtain of mind and maya keeps them apart. The days of youth — that is, the precious opportunity of human life — are fleeting, and the soul, though married, suffers the life of a forlorn single woman.

Elaborating on the analogy, Kabir says that the wedding canopy of the human body was fashioned by five craftsmen, the five elements; the time of the wedding was fixed by three wise men, the three attributes or gunas; the friends that sing the wedding songs are the five senses; and karma, the soul's confidante, has decorated her for the wedding ceremony. The age-old traditions or sanskaras in which man grows up are represented as the father, who ties the bride's scarf to the groom's robes as a token of giving away the bride; and mind, which Kabir calls the brother because it comes to the world along with the soul, has built the wedding altar.

But the five elements, the three attributes, the sanskaras and karmas, and above all the mind, who have been instrumental in bringing about the marriage, are themselves obstacles on the path to Union. They keep the soul imprisoned within the nine gates of the human body and prevent her from going within to the eye center — the wedding chamber — and meeting the Lord. The bride's longing to meet her Husband thus remains unfulfilled.

At the end of the poem Kabir describes the way union with the Lord is attained. Aflame with love and longing, the soul must die while living and through Shabd Yoga, the practice of the sound current, reach the Lord.

I came to my in-laws' house
In the company of my Husband,
But my longing to meet my Spouse
Remained unfulfilled.
The vibrant days of my youth
Faded away like a vain dream.

Five craftsmen built the wedding canopy,
Three wise men chose the auspicious hour;
My friends sang the nuptial songs,
My confidante applied on my forehead
The turmeric paste of sorrow and joy;
Yet my longing to meet my Spouse
Remained unfulfilled.

With colourful ceremonies
The wedding was solemnized.
My father tied my scarf
To the Bridegroom's robes
At the altar that my brother built.
The longing to meet my Consort,
Alas, still remained unfulfilled,
And the vibrant days of my youth
Passed away like a vague dream.

From the very hour of my wedding
I remained single and forlorn —
Aloof from my own Husband!
I never met Him;
Even a glimpse of his face
I never had.
I deluded myself; I thought
I was a married woman.
The vibrant days of my youth
Waned like a distant dream,
And the longing to meet Him
Alas, remained unfulfilled.

Says Kabir: I'll raise a pyre of love
And I'll die while living;
To the sound of drum
I'll cross the ocean
To attain everlasting union
With my beloved Husband.

K.G., p. 122:226
Main sāsri piya gauhin āiye