Sing, Kabir!

Where's his doorway, dervish?
How does the great king dress?
Where does he travel?
Where does he camp?
What's this form
you bow to?
I'm asking you, Mr. Muslim,
with your red and yellow
rags and robes.

Now you, Mr. Qazi,
what kind of work is that,
going from house to house
chopping heads?
Who gave the order for chickens and goats?
Who told you to swing the knife?
Aren't you afraid to be called a sage
as you read your verses
and dupe the world?
Kabir says, this high-class Muslim
wants to force his way on the world.

Fast all day,
kill cows at night,
here prayers, there blood--
does this please God?

from The Bijak of Kabir, tr. Linda Hess and Shukdeo Singh (2002), pp. 87-88.