He who would know His height, must in stature be the same.
He alone can His own greatness measure.
O Nanak, what He gives we must treasure.
25.
Of His bounty one cannot write too much,
He the great Giver desires not even a mustard seed;
Even the mighty beg at His door, and others such
Whose numbers can never be conceived.
There be those who receive but are self-indulgent,
Others who get but have no gratitude.
There be the foolish whose bellies are never filled,
Others whom hunger’s pain doth ever torment.
All this comes to pass as Thou hast willed.
Thy will alone breaks mortal bonds,
No one else hath influence.
The fool who argues otherwise
Shall be smitten into silence.
The Lord knows our needs, and gives,
Few there be that count their blessings,
He who is granted gratitude and power to praise,
O Nanak, is the king of kings.
26.
His goodness cannot be priced or traded,
Nor His worshippers valued, nor their store;
Priceless too are dealers in the market sacred
With love and peace evermore.
Perfect His law and administration,
Precise His weights and measures;
Boundless His bounty and His omens,
Infinite mercy in His orders.
How priceless Thou art one cannot state,
Those who spoke are mute in adoration,
The readers of the scriptures expatiate,
Having read, are lost in learned conversation.
The great gods Brahma and Indra do Thee proclaim,
So do Krishna and his maidens fair;
Siva and the Saivites do Thee name.
The Buddhas Thou made, Thy name bear.
The demons and the demi-gods,
Men, brave men, seers, and the sainted,
Having discoursed and discussed
Have spoken and departed.
If Thou didst many more create
Not one could any more state,
For Thou art as great as is Thy pleasure.
O Nanak, Thou alone knowest Thy measure.
He who claims to know blasphemeth
And is the worst among the stupidest.
27.
Sodar—(Te Deum)
Where is the gate, where the mansion,
From whence Thou watchest all creation,
Where sounds of musical melodies,
Of instruments playing, minstrels singing,
Are joined in divine harmony?
There the breezes blow, the waters run and the fires burn,
There Dharamraj, the King of death, sits in state;
There the recording angels Chitra and Gupta write
For Dharamraj to read and adjudicate.
There are the gods Isvara and Brahma,
The goddess Devi of divine grace;
There Indra sits on his celestial throne
And lesser gods, each in his place.
There ascetics in deep meditation,
Holy men in contemplation,
The pure of heart, the continent,
Men of peace and contentment,
Doughty warriors never yielding,
Thy praises are ever singing.
From age to age, the pandit and the sage
Do Thee exalt in their study and their writing.
There maidens fair, heart bewitching,
Who inhabit the earth, the upper and the lower regions,
Thy praises chant in their singing.
By the gems that Thou didst create,
In the sixty-eight places of pilgrimage,
Is Thy name exalted.
By warriors strong and brave in strife,
By the sources four from whence came life,
Of egg or womb, of sweet or seed,
Is Thy name magnified.
The regions of the earth, the heavens and the universe
That Thou didst make and dost sustain,
Sing to Thee and praise Thy name.
Only those Thou lovest and with whom Thou art pleased
Can give Thee praise and in Thy love be steeped.
Others too there must be who Thee acclaim,
I have no memory of knowing them
Nor of knowledge, O Nanak, make a claim.
He alone is the Master True, Lord of the word, ever the same,
He Who made creation is, shall be and shall ever remain;
He Who made things of diverse species, shapes, and hues,
Beholds that His handiwork His greatness proves.
What He wills He ordains,
To Him no one can an order give,
For He, O Nanak, is the King of Kings,
As He wills so we must live.
28.
As a beggar goes a-begging,
Bowl in one hand, staff in the other,
Rings in his ears, in ashes smothered,
So go thou forth in life.
With ear-rings made of contentment,
With modesty thy begging bowl,
Meditation the fabric of thy garment,
Knowledge of death thy cowl,
Let thy mind be chaste, virginal clean,
Faith the staff on which to lean.
Thou shalt then thy fancy humiliate,
With mind subdued, the world subjugate.
Hail! and to Thee be salutation.
Thou art primal, Thou art pure,
Without beginning, without termination,
In single form, forever endure.
29.
From the storehouse of compassion
Seek knowledge for thy food.
Let thy heartbeat be the call of the conch shell
Blown in gratitude.
He is the Lord, His is the will, His the creation,
He is the Master of destiny, of union and separation.
Hail! and to Thee be salutation.
Thou art primal, Thou art pure,
Without beginning, without termination,
In single form, forever endure.
30.
Maya, mythical goddess in wedlock divine,
Bore three gods accepted by all,
The creator of the world, the one who preserves,
And the one who adjudges its fall.
But it is God alone Whose will prevails
Others but their obedience render.
He sees and directs, but is by them unseen,
That of all is the greatest wonder.
Hail! and to Thee be salutation.
Thou art primal, Thou art pure,
Without beginning, without termination,
In single form, forever endure.
31.
He hath His prayer-mat in every region,
In every realm His store.
To human beings He doth apportion
Their share for once and evermore.
The Maker having made doth His own creation view.
O Nanak, He made truth itself, for He Himself is true.
Hail! and to Thee be salutation.
Thou art primal, Thou art pure,
Without beginning, without termination,
In single form, forever endure.
32.
Were I given a hundred thousand tongues instead of one
And the hundred thousand multiplied twenty-fold,
A hundred thousand times would I say, and say again,
The Lord of all the worlds is One.
That is the path that leads
These the steps that mount,
Ascend thus to the Lord’s mansion
And with Him be joined in unison.
The sound of the songs of Heaven thrills
The like of us who crawl, but desire to fly.
O Nanak, His grace alone it is that fulfills,<
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The rest mere prattle, and a lie.
33.
Ye have no power to speak or in silence listen,
To grant or give away.
Ye have no power to live or die.
Ye have no power to acquire wealth and dominion,
To compel the mind to thought or reason,
To escape the world and fly.
He who hath the pride of power, let him try and see.
O Nanak, before the Lord there is no low or high degree.
34.
He Who made the night and day,
The days of the week and the seasons,
He Who made the breezes blow, the waters run
The fires and the lower regions,
Made the earth—the temple of Law.
He Who made creatures of diverse kinds
With a multitude of names,
Made this the Law—
By thought and deed be judged forsooth,
For God is true and dispenseth truth.
There the elect His court adorn,
And God Himself their actions honours;
There are sorted deeds that were done and bore fruit
From those that to action could never ripen.
This, O Nanak, shall hereafter happen.
35.
In the realm of justice there is law;
In the realm of knowledge there is reason.
Wherefore are the breezes, the waters and fire,
Gods that preserve and destroy, Krishnas and Sivas?
Wherefore are created forms, colours, attire,
Gods that create, the many Brahmas?
Here one strives to comprehend
The golden mount of knowledge ascend,
And learn as did the sage Dhruva.
Wherefore are the thunders and lightning,
The moons and suns,
The world and its regions?
Wherefore are the sages, seers, wise men,
Goddesses, false prophets, demons and demi-gods,
Wherefore are there jewels in the ocean?
How many forms of life there be,
How many tongues,
How many kings of proud ancestry?
Of these things many strive to know,
Many the slaves of reason.
Many there are, O Nanak, their numbers are legion.
36.
As in the realm of knowledge reason is triumphant,
And yields a myriad joys,
So in the realm of bliss is beauty resplendent.
There are fashioned forms of great loveliness;
Of them it is best to remain silent
Than hazard guesses and then repent.
There too are fashioned consciousness, understanding, mind, and reason,
The genius of the sage and seer, the power of men superhuman.
37.
In the realm of action, effort is supreme,
Nothing else prevails.
There dwell doughty warriors brave and strong,
With hearts full of godliness,
And celestial maidens of great loveliness
Who sing their praise.
They cannot die nor be beguiled
For God Himself in their hearts resides.
There too are congregations of holy men
Who rejoice, for the Lord in their midst presides.
In the realm of truth is the Formless One
Who, having created, watches His creation
And graces us with the blessed vision.
There are the lands, the earths and the spheres
Of whose description there is no limit;
There by a myriad forms are a myriad purposes fulfilled,
What He ordains is in them instilled.
What He beholds, thinks and contemplates,
O Nanak, is too hard to state.
38.
If thou must make a gold coin true
Let thy mint these rules pursue.
In the forge of continence
Let the goldsmith be a man of patience,
His tools be made of knowledge,
His anvil made of reason;
With the fear of God the bellows blow,
With prayer and austerity make the fire glow,
Pour the liquid in the mould of love,
Print the name of the Lord thereon,
And cool it in the holy waters.
For thus in the mint of Truth the word is coined,
Thus those who are graced are to work enjoined.
O Nanak, by His blessing have joy everlasting.
Slok (Epilogue)
Air, water, and earth,
Of these are we made.
Air like the Guru’s word gives the breath of life
To the babe born to the great mother earth
Sired by the waters.
The day and night our nurses be
That watch us in our infancy.
In their laps we play,
The world is our playground.
Our acts right and wrong at Thy court shall come to judgment;
Some be seated near Thy seat, some ever kept distant.
The toils have ended of those that have worshipped Thee,
O Nanak, their faces are lit with joyful radiance— many others they set free.
* * *
panj nivajan vakht panj
There are five prayers
Each with a time and a name of its own.
First, truthfulness.
Second, to take only what is your due.
Third, goodwill towards all.
Fourth, pure intentions;
And praise of God, the fifth.
Let good acts be your creed: persevere with them;
Then proclaim you are a Muslim.
O Nanak, the more false the man
The more evil his power.
* * *
Moti ta mandir usraih ratani ta hoe jadao
Were I to live in a palace built of walls
Studded with pearls and rubies,
Fragrant with odours of musk and saffron
Smeared with agar and sandal
Lord, let not mine eyes be deceived by these
That I fail to recall Thy Name.
Without the Lord my soul would be burnt to cinders.
I asked my guru and now I know
There is no sanctuary but the Lord.
Were my floor embedded with diamonds and rubies,
On the floor a couch likewise with rubies inlaid
And on the couch a jewel-bedecked damsel
Sportive and wanton.
Lord, let not mine eyes be deceived by these
That I fail to recall Thy Name.
Were I endowed with powers to perform miracles,
To attract people by the gift of making gold;
Were I able to vanish and reappear at will
Thus strike awe in the hearts of the populace.
Lord, let not mine eyes be deceived by these
That I fail to recall Thy Name.
Were I a Sultan attended by retainers
With armies under my command and
My foot planted firmly upon my throne;
Were my word law, all revenues mine;
O Nanak, all this would be like thin air.
Lord, let not mine eyes be deceived by these
That I fail to recall Thy Name.
* * *
Kot kotee meri arja pavan peean apiao
Were I to live a million years in a cavern
Pierced neither by the sun nor the moon;
Too small to let me stretch myself,
Too small to sleep and dream;
Were my food and drink the air I breathed
(And I tried to assess Thy worth)
I would not know how great Thou art,
How then can I praise Thee?
He is the Truth, He is without form.
He is self-existent, His status is unique.
We hear of Him, then we speak of Him.
If He wills we have to know Him.
Were I to be slashed to shreds
Minced and ground to pulp
Fired in a furnace, with ashes mingled,
I would not know how great Thou art.
Were I a bird soaring through a hundred skies
Beyond the range of vision
Feeding on nothing, drinking nothing,
I would not know how great Thou art,
How then can I praise Thee?
O Nanak, had I a hundred thousand tons of paper
And filled the pages with essence of learning
Pen plying with the speed of wind, dipping in an inexhaustible inkwell,
Even so
I would not know how great Thou art,
How then can I praise Thee?
* * *
Lekhai bolan bolana lekhai khana khao
There is a limit to the amount we talk
And to the food we eat;
There is a limit to our wanderings
To the sights we see, to the sounds we hear;
There is a limit to the number of breaths a man breathes
We do not have to ask learned men about truths like these.
Brother, Maya hath spread its deception everywhere;
Those it blinds forget His Name.
For them there is no peace in this life
And in life hereafter it will be the same.
Once born, man has to live to the end of his days,
To sustain himself for that span of time.
Man goes alone to the place of reckoning when he dies
The wailings of those he leaves behind are but meaningless cries.
Everyone says the Lord is great,
None will be outdone in praising Him;
Yet no one has discovered His real worth.
His stature increased by praise.
The worlds are packed with a multitude of people
But Thou alone art our Lord and Master,
Thou alone art the Truth.
Of the low castes mine is the lowest,
I am the meanest of the mean.
O Nanak, amongst the poor seek thy friends and companions
Emulate not the mighty.
Where the fallen have protected been
There is Thy grace and mercy seen.
* * *
Jal moh ghas mas kar mat kagad kar sar
Burn away attachment to things of the world
Crush its soot to make ink;
Use your understanding as if it were a sheet of paper,
Hymns of the Gurus Page 3
