SHALOK, FIRST MEHL
ਸਲੋਕੁ ਮਃ ੧ ॥ ਸਿਰੁ ਖੋਹਾਇ ਪੀਅਹਿ ਮਲਵਾਣੀ ਜੂਠਾ ਮੰਗਿ ਮੰਗਿ ਖਾਹੀ ॥ ਫੋਲਿ ਫਦੀਹਤਿ ਮੁਹਿ ਲੈਨਿ ਭੜਾਸਾ ਪਾਣੀ ਦੇਖਿ ਸਗਾਹੀ ॥ ਭੇਡਾ ਵਾਗੀ ਸਿਰੁ ਖੋਹਾਇਨਿ ਭਰੀਅਨਿ ਹਥ ਸੁਆਹੀ ॥ ਮਾਊ ਪੀਊ ਕਿਰਤੁ ਗਵਾਇਨਿ ਟਬਰ ਰੋਵਨਿ ਧਾਹੀ ॥ ਓਨਾ ਪਿੰਡੁ ਨ ਪਤਲਿ ਕਿਰਿਆ ਨ ਦੀਵਾ ਮੁਏ ਕਿਥਾਊ ਪਾਹੀ ॥ ਅਠਸਠਿ ਤੀਰਥ ਦੇਨਿ ਨ ਢੋਈ ਬ੍ਰਹਮਣ ਅੰਨੁ ਨ ਖਾਹੀ ॥ ਸਦਾ ਕੁਚੀਲ ਰਹਹਿ ਦਿਨੁ ਰਾਤੀ ਮਥੈ ਟਿਕੇ ਨਾਹੀ ॥ ਝੁੰਡੀ ਪਾਇ ਬਹਨਿ ਨਿਤਿ ਮਰਣੈ ਦੜਿ ਦੀਬਾਣਿ ਨ ਜਾਹੀ ॥ ਲਕੀ ਕਾਸੇ ਹਥੀ ਫੁੰਮਣ ਅਗੋ ਪਿਛੀ ਜਾਹੀ ॥ ਨਾ ਓਇ ਜੋਗੀ ਨਾ ਓਇ ਜੰਗਮ ਨਾ ਓਇ ਕਾਜੀ ਮੁੰਲਾ ॥ ਦਯਿ ਵਿਗੋਏ ਫਿਰਹਿ ਵਿਗੁਤੇ ਫਿਟਾ ਵਤੈ ਗਲਾ ॥ ਜੀਆ ਮਾਰਿ ਜੀਵਾਲੇ ਸੋਈ ਅਵਰੁ ਨ ਕੋਈ ਰਖੈ ॥ ਦਾਨਹੁ ਤੈ ਇਸਨਾਨਹੁ ਵੰਜੇ ਭਸੁ ਪਈ ਸਿਰਿ ਖੁਥੈ ॥ ਪਾਣੀ ਵਿਚਹੁ ਰਤਨ ਉਪੰਨੇ ਮੇਰੁ ਕੀਆ ਮਾਧਾਣੀ ॥ ਅਠਸਠਿ ਤੀਰਥ ਦੇਵੀ ਥਾਪੇ ਪੁਰਬੀ ਲਗੈ ਬਾਣੀ ॥ ਨਾਇ ਨਿਵਾਜਾ ਨਾਤੈ ਪੂਜਾ ਨਾਵਨਿ ਸਦਾ ਸੁਜਾਣੀ ॥ ਮੁਇਆ ਜੀਵਦਿਆ ਗਤਿ ਹੋਵੈ ਜਾਂ ਸਿਰਿ ਪਾਈਐ ਪਾਣੀ ॥ ਨਾਨਕ ਸਿਰਖੁਥੇ ਸੈਤਾਨੀ ਏਨਾ ਗਲ ਨ ਭਾਣੀ ॥ ਵੁਠੈ ਹੋਇਐ ਹੋਇ ਬਿਲਾਵਲੁ ਜੀਆ ਜੁਗਤਿ ਸਮਾਣੀ ॥ ਵੁਠੈ ਅੰਨੁ ਕਮਾਦੁ ਕਪਾਹਾ ਸਭਸੈ ਪੜਦਾ ਹੋਵੈ ॥ ਵੁਠੈ ਘਾਹੁ ਚਰਹਿ ਨਿਤਿ ਸੁਰਹੀ ਸਾ ਧਨ ਦਹੀ ਵਿਲੋਵੈ ॥ ਤਿਤੁ ਘਿਇ ਹੋਮ ਜਗ ਸਦ ਪੂਜਾ ਪਇਐ ਕਾਰਜੁ ਸੋਹੈ ॥ ਗੁਰੂ ਸਮੁੰਦੁ ਨਦੀ ਸਭਿ ਸਿਖੀ ਨਾਤੈ ਜਿਤੁ ਵਡਿਆਈ ॥ ਨਾਨਕ ਜੇ ਸਿਰਖੁਥੇ ਨਾਵਨਿ ਨਾਹੀ ਤਾ ਸਤ ਚਟੇ ਸਿਰਿ ਛਾਈ ॥੧॥
SHALOK, FIRST MEHL: They pluck the hair out of their heads, and drink in filthy water; they beg endlessly and eat the garbage which others have thrown away. They spread manure, they suck in rotting smells, and they are afraid of clean water. Their hands are smeared with ashes, and the hair on their heads is plucked out—they are like sheep! They have renounced the lifestyle of their mothers and fathers, and their families and relatives cry out in distress. No one offers the rice dishes at their last rites, and no one lights the lamps for them. After their death, where will they be sent? The sixty-eight sacred shrines of pilgrimage give them no place of protection, and no Brahmin will eat their food. They remain polluted forever, day and night; they do not apply the ceremonial tilak mark to their foreheads. They sit together in silence, as if in mourning; they do not go to the Lord’s Court. With their begging bowls hanging from their waists, and their fly-brushes in their hands, they walk along in single file. They are not Yogis, and they are not Jangams, followers of Shiva. They are not Qazis or Mullahs. Ruined by the Merciful Lord, they wander around in disgrace, and their entire troop is contaminated. The Lord alone kills and restores to life; no one else can protect anyone from Him. They go without giving alms or any cleansing baths; their shaven heads become covered with dust. The jewel emerged from the water, when the mountain of gold was used to churn it. The gods established the sixty-eight sacred shrines of pilgrimage, where the festivals are celebrated and hymns are chanted. After bathing, the Muslims recite their prayers, and after bathing, the Hindus perform their worship services. The wise always take cleansing baths. At the time of death, and at the time of birth, they are purified, when water is poured on their heads. O Nanak, the shaven-headed ones are devils. They are not pleased to hear these words. When it rains, there is happiness. Water is the key to all life. When it rains, the corn grows, and the sugar cane, and the cotton, which provides clothing for all. When it rains, the cows always have grass to graze upon, and housewives can churn the milk into butter. With that ghee, sacred feasts and worship services are performed; all these efforts are blessed. The Guru is the ocean, and all His Teachings are the river. Bathing within it, glorious greatness is obtained. O Nanak, if the shaven-headed ones do not bathe, then seven handfuls of ashes are upon their heads. ||1||