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65.
||3||
I am joined in true love with You, Lord. I am joined with You, and I have broken with all others. ||3||
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65.
||4||
Wherever I go, there I serve You. There is no other Lord Master than You, O Divine Lord. ||4||
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65.
||5||5||
Meditating, vibrating upon You, the noose of death is cut away. To attain devotional worship, Ravi Daas sings to You, Lord. ||5||5||
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65.
||1||
The body is a wall of water, supported by the pillars of air; the egg and sperm are the mortar. The framework is made up of bones, flesh and veins; the poor soul-bird dwells within it. ||1||
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65.
||1||Pause||
O mortal, what is mine, and what is yours? The soul is like a bird perched upon a tree. ||1||Pause||
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65.
||2||
You lay the foundation and build the walls. But in the end, three and a half cubits will be your measured space. ||2||
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65.
||3||
You make your hair beautiful, and wear a stylish turban on your head. But in the end, this body shall be reduced to a pile of ashes. ||3||
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65.
||4||
Your palaces are lofty, and your brides are beautiful. But without the Lord's Name, you shall lose the game entirely. ||4||
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65.
||5||6||
My social status is low, my ancestry is low, and my life is wretched. I have come to Your Sanctuary, O Luminous Lord, my King; so says Ravi Daas, the shoemaker. ||5||6||
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65.
||1||Pause||
I am a shoemaker, but I do not know how to mend shoes. People come to me to mend their shoes. ||1||Pause||
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65.
||1||
I have no awl to stitch them; I have no knife to patch them. ||1||
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65.
||2||
Mending, mending, people waste their lives and ruin themselves. Without wasting my time mending, I have found the Lord. ||2||
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65.
||3||7||
Ravi Daas chants the Lord's Name; he is not concerned with the Messenger of Death. ||3||7||
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65.
||1||
Raag Sorat'h, The Word Of Devotee Bheekhan Jee: One Universal Creator God. By The Grace Of The True Guru: Tears well up in my eyes, my body has become weak, and my hair has become milky-white. My throat is tight, and I cannot utter even one word; what can I do now? I am a mere mortal. ||1||
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65.
||1||Pause||
O Lord, my King, Gardener of the world-garden, be my Physician, and save me, Your Saint. ||1||Pause||
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65.
||2||
My head aches, my body is burning, and my heart is filled with anguish. Such is the disease that has struck me; there is no medicine to cure it. ||2||
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65.
||3||1||
The Name of the Lord, the ambrosial, immaculate water, is the best medicine in the world. By Guru's Grace, says servant Bheekhan, I have found the Door of Salvation. ||3||1||
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65.
||1||
Such is the Naam, the Name of the Lord, the invaluable jewel, the most sublime wealth, which I have found through good deeds. By various efforts, I have enshrined it within my heart; this jewel cannot be hidden by hiding it. ||1||
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65.
||1||Pause||
The Glorious Praises of the Lord cannot be spoken by speaking. They are like the sweet candies given to a mute. ||1||Pause||
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65.
||2||2||
The tongue speaks, the ears listen, and the mind contemplates the Lord; they find peace and comfort. Says Bheekhan, my eyes are content; wherever I look, there I see the Lord. ||2||2||
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