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Thou art Sat Guru and I thy servant
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If any hungers for the love of Gopala
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He is the true purveyor who weighs out the true Name
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In thy heaven, O Loved One, sound thy flute again
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O Soul, thou hast missed all the meaning of life — why hast thou lost it so?
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Where must I search, O my mother? Without the guide the secret's hid
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To my house has come the Lord, the Sat Guru
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Lord, no man's pain is great as mine: to give peace none has power like Thine
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I am the Sat Guru's slave girl, the Immortal city is my home
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One winnows empty husks; and to what profit? Winnow that wherein is always grain
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