Lord, Thou hast showered Thy grace upon me.
Thou art gracious, I of grace unworthy: knowing this of Thyself show grace.
A dog that is bathed becomes not a calf, and the mean man does not leave his meanness.
The stork will not dwell by Mansarowar, at some pool of desire it will make its home.
Take the Lord's nature as your pattern, and yourself do service at His feet.
Where can the Chameleon's efforts take him? At best, it will go to the heap of cow dung.
Now all my striving can do nothing. This I declare and proclaim aloud.

In love are all these ills: suspicions, quarrels,
Wrongs, reconcilements, war, and peace again.
Things thus uncertain, if by Reason's rules
You'd certain make, it were as wise a task
To try with reason to run mad.

O Jogi, dwell in wisdom's city.
Wrapped in the sheet of love's own dye tell the beads within your heart.
Within you cry the name each moment, wash off all karmas and deceits.
Perfect reflection, keep the true path, nor openly proclaim its secret.
Dulam Das' Master is Jagjivan, across the world's sea bring him safe.

Awake, awake, O Soul: wash off the ancient stains.
Karmas and deceits cast off and cleanse desire's defilement.
Thine own knowledge forgotten why meddle with another.
The truth is made a lie and falsehood is kept hidden.
Know and hold fast this word: from door to door go weep.
Not seventy soaps and washings: love's water will suffice thee.
Cleanse, scour away your stains: then all will cry Well done,
Dulam, in deeds of folly be not misled nor sleep.

Without the Name this boat is storm-tossed: ever upon the true Name call.
Fathomless this world's wide waters: yet to the shore I needs must win.

I have no merit, not one merit: in mid-stream no help have I.
At the Sat Guru's feet I bow me: the Name is my stay, this Dulam knows.

Youth was spent and the whole body blinded through neglect of the gem Hari.
Drunk with the scents and sweets of passion, steeped in the dye of conceit and self.
With twirled moustache he proudly struts, for no one has he a kindly word.
He says, nowhere have I an equal: none wise as I in all the world.
I am mighty, greater than all: I shall win great wealth in the face of all men.
Racked with pain yet he holds it bliss. The fool has drunk deep of the drug of folly.
With a household's care who can be happy? Sahjo, he is as one bound in prison.

None can trust life's breath, O Sadhu: bethink you of departing now.
With her dead husband burns the Sati: this is all illusion's error.
On his back a load of raisins, yet the camel eats Babul.
Palace, temple, park and gardens, yet no root or branch survives.
The living Purusa is changeless immortal, bodiless and without frame.
Before my eyes to do obeisance come like flowers priceless gems.
Here, Garib Das, thought soars as Alal, rocked in meditation's swing.

Call me Thine own servant.
In my heart and soul, eyes, ears, nose, head, Thou art, O God, the Changeless Purusa.
When from life's sea a soul Thou drawest, his pilot, boatman guide Thou art.
To see Thy Form the eyes are hungry, longing for all its joy and sweetness.
Infinite art Thou, O Bhikha, who can presume to sing His praises?

O Soul, what will be my future? My wisdom and understanding halt.
When into this world you entered, Maya attached and fastened on you.
Ignorant of the Name of Rama, in no settled state of knowledge.
Under vow to chant his praises, with a true heart you never sang
Ever doing deeds of evil, so did your understanding perish.
To the refuge of Thy feet take Bhikha, from his mind drive Maya far.
This day by day is his petition, that in his heart Thy love may spring.

My life I offer, O Ravisher of hearts.
With endless labour I expounded, but the fool does not believe.
By look and word I urge with vehemence: how wilt thou win across the stream?
By this mind are gods, men, munis wearied: what hope then for a helpless man?
I crossed by calling on my Lover: this, O Gulal, says humble Bhikha.