I went to fetch water to bathe the
Beloved,
But fish had already spoiled it;
I went to pluck flower to worship the Beloved,
But flower-bee had already smelt it;
I went to draw forth milk to feed the Beloved,
But the colt had already tasted it;
Here is Beloved, there is Beloved, everywhere is Beloved,
Then what shall I dedicate to Thee ?
Thy name is Truth, Thy love I beg of Thee;
I yearn for the day when chanting thy name
Tears will pour down my face;
I yearn for the day when chanting Thy name,
My throat will choke with ecstasy;
I yearn for the day when chanting Thy name,
Hair of my body will stand on end;
I yearn for the day when chanting Thy name,
My tongue will refuse to utter its prayer;
And the soul lost in the joy of Thy blissful embrace,
Forget to beg any boon of Thee;
Oh Thou, who stealeth the heart of Thy ‘Bhagtas’
Hari Nanak;*
I dedicate at, Thy feet this work,
A humble
essay on Thy glorious Jap ji.