|| Raag Tilang M: 1 || The Fear of You, O Lord God, is my marijuana; my consciousness is the pouch which holds it. I have become an intoxicated hermit. My hands are my begging bowl; I am so hungry for the Blessed Vision of Your Darshan. I beg at Your Door; day after day.||1|| I long for the Blessed Vision of Your Darshan. I am a beggar at Your Door - please bless me with Your charity. ||1|| Pause || Saffron, flowers, musk oil and gold embellish the bodies of all. The Lords devotees are like sandalwood, which imparts its fragrance to everyone.||2|| No one says that ghee or silk are polluted. Such is the Lords devotee, no matter what his social status is. Those who bow in reverence to the Naam, the Name of the Lord, remain absorbed in Your Love. Nanak begs for charity at their door. ||3||1||2||
Posted on: Sat, 10 Jan 2015 20:49:31 +0000
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