Ang 557

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 and 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 and Master, are my capital. My mind is cleared of doubt, when I praise You in prayer. ||4||1||

WADAHANS, FIRST MEHL: The virtuous bride ravishes and 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 any other? ||1|| Pause|| If the soul-bride does good deeds, and makes her mind the thread, she obtains the jewel, which cannot be purchased for any price, strung upon the thread of her consciousness. ||2|| I ask, but I 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, 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 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 attuned to someone else. You don’t have the bracelets of gold, nor the good crystal jewelry; you have not dealt with the true jeweller. Those arms, which do not embrace the neck of the Husband Lord, burn in anguish. All my companions have gone to enjoy their Husband Lord; which door should I, the wretched one, go to? O friend, I am very well-behaved, but I am not pleasing to my Husband Lord at all. I have woven my hair into lovely braids, and saturated their partings with vermillion; but when I go before Him, I am not accepted, and I die, suffering in sorrow. I weep — the whole world weeps; even the birds of the forest weep with me. The only thing which does not weep is my body’s sense of separation, which has separated me from my Husband Lord. In a dream, He came, and went away again; I cried so many tears. I cannot come to You, O my Beloved, and I cannot send anyone to You. Come to me, O blessed sleep — perhaps I will see my Husband Lord again. One who brings me a message from my Lord and Master — says Nanak, what shall I give to Him? Cutting off my head, I give it to Him to sit upon; without my head, I shall still serve Him. Why haven’t I died? Why hasn’t my life just ended? My Husband Lord has become a stranger to me. ||1||3||