S O O H E E , F I R S T M E H L , S I X T H H O U S E
ONE UNIVERSAL CREATOR GOD.
BY THE GRACE OF THE TRUE GURU
Bronze is bright and shiny, but when it is rubbed, its blackness appears.
Washing it, its impurity is not removed, even if it is washed a hundred times.
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They alone are my friends, who travel along with me;
and in that place, where the accounts are called for, they appear standing with me.
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Pause || There are houses, mansions and tall buildings, painted on all sides;
but they are empty within, and they crumble like useless ruins.
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The herons in their white feathers dwell in the sacred shrines of pilgrimage.
They tear apart and eat the living beings, and so they are not called white.
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My body is like the simmal tree;
seeing me, other people are fooled.
Its fruits are useless — just like the qualities of my body.
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The blind man is carrying such a heavy load, and his journey through the mountains is so long.
My eyes can see, but I cannot find the Way.
How can I climb up and cross over the mountain?
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What good does it do to serve, and be good, and be clever?
O Nanak, contemplate the Naam, the Name of the Lord, and you shall be released from bondage.
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