The master of the amorous
Is the object of their lust,
The master of the greedy
Is money and wealth;
The Master of Kabir
Is the perfect Saint,
The Master of the Saints
Is the Name.

K.S.S., p. 130:1

The lustful ruin their devotion
By indulging in sense pleasures,
The rare diamond of divine love
They let slip from their hand
And ruin the precious chance
Of the human birth.

K.S.S., p. 130:5

Lust, the ruthless horseman,
Gallops in all directions,
He makes everyone his prey;
That rare devotee escapes
Who takes the shelter of Naam.

K.S.S., p. 131:17

The lustful will not relish Nectar,
The poison of pleasures he craves;
Over him sensualness prevails —
He does not listen,
Though warned again and again.

K.S.S., p. 131:14

K.S.S., p. 131:13

As long as the body's storehouse
Abounds with the hoard
Of lust and anger,
Of ego and greed,
The learned and the lout
Are no doubt the same.

K.S.S., p. 131:19

Lust, like the wick of a lamp,
Drains the oil
Of the house
In which it dwells;
Kabir, the Saint is the diamond
That shines in the brilliance
Of its own inner light.

K.S.S., p. 130:2

As long as the devotee
Loves sense pleasures
He is not a gurmukh;
When the Satguru
Dwells in his heart,
For him such pleasures
Will lose their charm.

K.S.S., p. 138:5

K.S.S., p. 137:3

When chastity and purity
Spring in the heart,
The eye that sees the Unseen opens;
Without purity
No one can attain the goal,
Although men may make
A million claims.

K.S.S., p. 137:1

Where lust is,
Naam is not;
Where Naam resides,
Lust has no place;
Sun and darkness both
Cannot be together
At the same spot.

K.S.S., p. 139:9