To Thee my mind has clung: this living thing is naught.
Bound fast to mother, father, sons, yet none of these will bear it company.
Sidhs and Sadhs, Munis and Gandharvas, all were mingled with the dust.
Even Brahma, Visnu, Mahesa, all, beyond all counting.
Amongst these what is one poor man? Of what account is he?
Jagjivan makes this his prayer — may he abide beneath Thy shade.

Awake, awake, O Achran Kund, then will all the troops of sins be scattered.

Brahma awoke, Indra awoke, Govind with energies awoke.
The Earth awoke, the sky awoke: Siva awoke and settled in Kailas.

If thou awakest, all else will awake: there will be light in the three worlds.
O Jagjivan, only those disciples will awake, who lay their heads at the Guru's feet.

My soul is inebriate.
I have clung fast to the feet of the Lord: and the world calls me mad.
Without support I sit and drink the amrita wine: I call aloud upon the Name.
O Jagjivan, by meeting with the Sat Guru, one is upborne beyond the ocean of the world.

O Lord, my soul clings fast to Thee.
Cut loose the karmas of my many births: I long sore for the vision of Thee.
Not one word can I speak, I a sinner and a thief.
Night and day let me meditate upon Thee: hear but this humble prayer.
Grant this my request, O Lord, cast but one glance upon me.
Look on Jagjivan as Thine own: break not the thread of love.

Again and again I cry aloud my prayer, that by Thy mercy I may set my heart on Thee.
May I seek no other goal, may I be a sacrifice to Thee, from Thee my thoughts be never parted.
When Thou willest, then am I near. Thee, when Thou art merciful, then faith is firm.
Thy slave has no power at all, he knows that this is known to Thee.
When to man Thou givest knowledge, then he sings praise with passionate devotion.
What other is there? Of whom can I speak? When Thou art gracious then can I never forget.

To praise Thy name can none aspire.
I have no power at all: what means can I employ?
When Thou willest granting mercy Thou givest a refuge at Thy feet.
When in forgetfulness I pass from Thy thought, Thou causest me to forget all things.
Thy thoughts are marvellous, Thy doings past tracing out, no where can one find their end.
All souls and beasts and insects in the world, of all none could search Thee out.
I make my prayer with clasped hands, I cry aloud that Thou mayest hear.
Let Jagjivan find refuge at the Guru's feet, let him be named Thine own.

Our old moon put her horns away and the dark nights were three;
There danced a girl-moon through the clouds, pallid as ivory.
At break of day went Jupiter patrolling down the sky,
Just as the lonely watchman with a lantern passing by.

This world is as a dream: hear and believe my word.
This Maya is a witch, ever destroying lives.
Every moment, every instant active, she is as the angel of death.
Give up your trust in these, worship Rama's name.
Few were the Sants that found deliverance, those that kept the name in remembrance.
Poor Bulla has sought sanctuary with Thee, cut his chains, O Rama.
Support him in the ocean of existence and grant him entrance to Thy dwelling.

Full is my sorrow now that you are dead,
And I have thrown the dust upon your head.
In other days I preached unendingly,
But now, my little boy, you preach to me.

Cool streams in the fresh shady vale, woods girt and decked with lofty pines, where my Hyella was subdued and where I gathered from her the first rose;
May no season of the year be harsh to you, nor your green painted verdure be harmed by cold or heat, but may it ever grow greener and more delicious:
May no beast sully your pure founts, may no sharp steel attack your woods, may no wolf slay your modest lambs;
But let the nymphs here sing and dip their breasts in the stream, and may this faithful wood please the god Pan more than Arcadia ever pleased!