Section 26 - Raag Tukhaari - Part 002
The forest is blossoming in front of my door; if only my Beloved would return to my home!
If her Husband Lord does not return home, how can the soul-bride find peace? Her body is wasting away with the sorrow of separation.
The beautiful song-bird sings, perched on the mango tree; but how can I endure the pain in the depths of my being?
The bumble bee is buzzing around the flowering branches; but how can I survive? I am dying, O my mother!
O Nanak, in Chayt, peace is easily obtained, if the soul-bride obtains the Lord as her Husband, within the home of her own heart. ||5||
Baisakhi is so pleasant; the branches blossom with new leaves.
The soul-bride yearns to see the Lord at her door. Come, O Lord, and take pity on me!
Please come home, O my Beloved; carry me across the treacherous world-ocean. Without You, I am not worth even a shell.
Who can estimate my worth, if I am pleasing to You? I see You, and inspire others to see You, O my Love.
I know that You are not far away; I believe that You are deep within me, and I realize Your Presence.
O Nanak, finding God in Baisakhi, the consciousness is filled with the Word of the Shabad, and the mind comes to believe. ||6||
The month of Jayt'h is so sublime. How could I forget my Beloved?
The earth burns like a furnace, and the soul-bride offers her prayer.
The bride offers her prayer, and sings His Glorious Praises; singing His Praises, she becomes pleasing to God.
The Unattached Lord dwells in His true mansion. If He allows me, then I will come to Him.
The bride is dishonored and powerless; how will she find peace without her Lord?
O Nanak, in Jayt'h, she who knows her Lord becomes just like Him; grasping virtue, she meets with the Merciful Lord. ||7||
The month of Aasaarh is good; the sun blazes in the sky.
The earth suffers in pain, parched and roasted in the fire.
The fire dries up the moisture, and she dies in agony. But even then, the sun does not grow tired.
His chariot moves on, and the soul-bride seeks shade; the crickets are chirping in the forest.
She ties up her bundle of faults and demerits, and suffers in the world hereafter. But dwelling on the True Lord, she finds peace.
O Nanak, I have given this mind to Him; death and life rest with God. ||8||
In Saawan, be happy, O my mind. The rainy season has come, and the clouds have burst into showers.
My mind and body are pleased by my Lord, but my Beloved has gone away.
My Beloved has not come home, and I am dying of the sorrow of separation. The lightning flashes, and I am scared.
My bed is lonely, and I am suffering in agony. I am dying in pain, O my mother!
Tell me - without the Lord, how can I sleep, or feel hungry? My clothes give no comfort to my body.