Puppets carved out of stone
Men worship as the Lord;
Those who put their trust in them
Drown in the dark currents
Of the dreadful sea.

K.G., p. 34:1

The pundits have made
A cell out of soot,
And from the ink of rituals,
Its dismal doors;
They have planted stones
In the earth
And lie in ambush
To rob the world.

K.G., p. 34:2

Why adore stone idols?
If worshipped all our life
They will never give an answer
To our prayers;
Blind men hunger for worldly gains
And lose their luster in vain.

K.G., p. 34:3

I too would have adored stones
And like an antelope
Wandered in the wild woods;
But my Master blessed me
With his love and grace,
And I threw the burden
Off my head.

K.G., p. 34:4

Empty are all chanting,
Penance and austerity,
Empty are fasts,
Empty, pilgrimages —
Putting faith in them is vain;
As the deluded parrot
Pecks at the semal bloom,
So goes the world
With empty hands.

K.G., p. 35:8

The vicious creeper
Of fasting and pilgrimage
Has spread its tentacles
Over the entire world;
But its very roots
Kabir has destroyed,
Why need he its poison eat?

K.G., p. 35:9

Men have made it a business
To sell idols of stone,
Calling them the Lord of all;
You spend money and buy one,
But find it dead and dumb,
For indeed it is counterfeit.

K.S.S., p. 165:6

K.S.S., p. 165:8

Men gather stones
And raise big temples
Where large idols
They enshrine.
But idols can break:
Themselves helpless
And dependent on others,
How can they ferry one
Across the stormy sea?

K.S.S., p. 165:9

Kabir, men rush to temples
And in devotion bow their head;
But within your heart
Lives the Lord —
Adore Him within,
Within stay absorbed.

K.G., p. 35:11

Gathering stone and mortar,
Men raise a high mosque;
Climbing to the top
The mullah shouts his prayer —
But tell m'e, O mullah,
Is the Lord deaf?

K.S.S., p. 165:13

K.S.S., p. 165:14

Your mind is Mathura,
Dwarka is your heart,
Your body is Kasi;
The true temple
Is at the tenth door,
Therein realize
The Light of God.

K.G., p. 35:10

The Turks to the mosques,
The Hindus to their temples
With blind fervor run;
Within the body
Dwells the Invisible One,
But they do not try to find
The door of his mansion.

K.S.S., p. 165:15

Running to holy places,
Undertaking fasts,
Bathing in icy waters,
Men have toiled
And toiled to death;
But without knowing
The true Name
They became morsels for Kal
Eon after eon,
Again and again.

K.S.S., p. 166:3

What avail your holy baths
If the mind is not rid of its dirt?
Fish always remain in water,
But even with washing
Their stench does not fade.

K.S.S., p. 166:5

Who give alms in profusion,
Craving for much in return,
They'll be born as elephants
In the stables of the rich
And get mounds of food to eat.

K.S.S., p. 166:11

Kabir, a hundred times
I warn the world, but in vain;
Men hold onto a sheep's tail
And wish to cross the ocean!

K.S.S., p. 166:17

A million pilgrimages
A man might undertake,
And a million journeys
To the four holy spots;
Until he takes the refuge
Of a Saint,
All his efforts
Are false and vain.

K.S.S., p. 166:7

K.S.S., p. 166:16