The devotee, longing to meet the Lord, turns from one school of philosophy to another, from one form of worship to another, but fails to attain his goal. Like the loving wife parted from her husband, the devotee suffers the pangs of separation from the Beloved, but finds no one who can end his misery by leading him to the Lord. Applying sandalwood paste and trying other methods to alleviate the fever of longing prove futile; in other words, different forms of worship fail to end his agony of separation. But Kabir, concluding the poem, suggests the way: the company of the Saint will give the devotee solace through the practice of Shabd Yoga, also known as the path of Sahaj; by undertaking this method of true worship, he will attain his objective of union with Him.

With my heart plunged in gloom
From place to place I roam,
For I fear my store of breaths
Might drain away
Without my meeting the Lord;
Day after day my hopes dwindle
And my heart remains plunged in gloom.

Wherever I go in quest of Him,
Whatever means I adopt,
They lead me not to the Lord.
Tell me, O friends,
How can I stay alive?
My body burns
With the fever of longing,
I find no one
Who can quell the flame;
Nights emerge burning hot
From the furnace of separation,
Sleep has become a distant dream,
And my heart sinks into gloom.

I make sandalwood paste,
I anoint my body
Repeatedly with the salve,
But without seeing my Beloved
I suffer unbearable pain
And my heart plunges into gloom.

Absorbing himself
In the company of Saints,
Kabir finds solace and relief;
He learns the way of Sahaj,
He worships the Lord.

K.G., p. 95:115
Jiyarā merā phirai re udās