My heart is not virtuous
My garbs are all black
My nature is to falter
With every step fall back;
I have no decorations
No bravado feats
I'm a fallen soldier
Shot by my own deeds;
My heart's desires
Are elementally pure
But, my determination,
Never does endure.
Blessed is Bhai Manjh Jee,
Who bit down his hankaar
With patience, he endured,
And won his Prabhu's heart;
Blessed is Bhai Fauja Singh
Who lay in the railroad tracks
Accepting harsh rejection
Rather than turning back;
Blessed are those Gurmukhs
Who offer their selves everyday
In a silent and indifferent exchange,
And trusting that one day it will pay.
My heart is not virtuous
My garbs are all black
I have no decorations
And I always fall back;
My desire is pure,
My hopes are undead
But it's unrequited care
Through which I dare not tread;
Fearing surrender,
I choose not to endure the storm
And I sit here crying
Alone and so forlorn.
Let me be like those Gurmukhs,
Who learned to bow their heads,
Serving with love and patience,
Surrendering to the point of death;
Burn away my ego,
And make me a loyal daughter
Make me a humble servant,
Please do not let me falter.
Mend these broken ties, Lord,
And give me the love of my Father.
ਸਤਿਗੁਰਬਚਨਕਮਾਵਣੇਸਚਾਏਹੁਵੀਚਾਰੁ॥