One Universal Creator God. Truth Is The Name. Creative Being Personified. No Fear. No Hatred. Image Of The Undying. Beyond Birth. Self-Existent. By Guru's Grace:
Raag Wadahans, First Mehl, First House:
To the addict, there is nothing like the drug; to the fish, there is nothing else like water.
Those who are attuned to their Lord - everyone is pleasing to them. ||1||
I am a sacrifice, cut apart into pieces, a sacrifice to Your Name, O Lord Master. ||1||Pause||
The Lord is the fruitful tree; His Name is ambrosial nectar.
Those who drink it in are satisfied; I am a sacrifice to them. ||2||
You are not visible to me, although You dwell with everyone.
How can the thirst of the thirsty be quenched, with that wall between me and the pond? ||3||
Nanak is Your merchant; You, O Lord Master, are my merchandise.
My mind is cleansed of doubt, only when I praise You, and pray to You. ||4||1||
Wadahans, First Mehl:
The virtuous bride enjoys her Husband Lord; why does the unworthy one cry out?
If she were to become virtuous, then she too could enjoy her Husband Lord. ||1||
My Husband Lord is loving and playful; why should the soul-bride enjoy anyone else? ||1||Pause||
If the soul-bride does good deeds, and strings them on the thread of her mind,
she obtains the jewel, which cannot be purchased for any price, strung upon the thread of her consciousness. ||2||
I ask, but do not follow the way shown to me; still, I claim to have reached my destination.
I do not speak with You, O my Husband Lord; how then can I come to have a place in Your home? ||3||
O Nanak, without the One Lord, there is no other at all.
If the soul-bride remains attached to You, then she shall enjoy her Husband Lord. ||4||2||
Wadahans, First Mehl, Second House:
The peacocks are singing so sweetly, O sister; the rainy season of Saawan has come.
Your beauteous eyes are like a string of charms, fascinating and enticing the soul-bride.
I would cut myself into pieces for the Blessed Vision of Your Darshan; I am a sacrifice to Your Name.
I take pride in You; without You, what could I be proud of?
So smash your bracelets along with your bed, O soul-bride, and break your arms, along with the arms of your couch.
In spite of all the decorations which you have made, O soul-bride, your Husband Lord is enjoying someone else.