A poem praising degh is a million times sweeter in punjabi, but please accept my meagre poem, inspired by a sudden longing for and awe of degh.
The restless, premee bhagats,
who travel from afar
to sing in hues of longing love
as beggars in your darbar
They sit with uplifted faces
tongues trembling in wait
as beggars waiting before their giver
for the thrill of the coming sweet taste
As the singing of the beggers
comes to a heartful close
the smell wafts into the air, to tell them
their reward is coming close
Patient trepidation, even salivation
- all set in
As the Giver gives His final word
and the blessings of a King
As the beggars lift their hands,
it becomes apparent that Guru Sahib is kind
as even the sleeping cynics
are rewarded one more time
Sweet nectar, pure food of all galaxies
grand guphas of quenching degh
are given to the bhagats of all the mandalies
In His darbaar, his kindness is never-ending
for the sweetness of his degh
is soulfully ever-mending
Guru Sahib's kindness,
is infused inside this food
Given to the pyaasi chatriks
who beg for amrit boondh
Sorrowful hearts, soar
bairagees becmoe chardikalaa
when parshaad comes around,
in the form of karaah