Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
Priceless are the qualities of the oneness. Priceless are its dealings. Priceless are those who come to it. Priceless are those who receive from it. Priceless is love for it. Priceless is being absorbed into it. Priceless is dharma. Priceless is the court of truth. Priceless are its blessings. Priceless are its mercy and its command.
Priceless — beyond all price — it cannot be described.
And still, beings try. The ancient texts speak of it. The scholars lecture about it. Brahma speaks of it. Indra speaks of it. The devotees of Krishna speak of it. Shiva speaks of it. The perfected ones, the many Buddhas, the divine beings, the silent sages, the humble ones who serve — all speak of it.
Countless speak and try. Countless have spoken over and over again, and then arisen and departed. If the oneness were to create as many beings again as already exist — even all of those could not fully describe it.
The oneness is as great as it wishes to be. Only the true one knows.
And if anyone presumes to claim they have described it completely — they have shown their own foolishness.
The One is amul — priceless — and still everyone keeps trying to put it into words.
Amul comes again and again: its goodness, its dealings, its storehouses, its love, its law, its mercy, its command — all priceless. Priceless does not mean very expensive. It means price does not apply at all, like asking how much the sunrise costs.
The teaching tradition notices two everyday pictures in these opening lines. The first is a market: priceless goods, priceless dealings, priceless traders, priceless storehouses. The awake are traders whose only business is the Name, and their trade is a strange one. They hand over everything they were clinging to — which was never really theirs — and receive the One in return. It is like trading a fistful of sand for a diamond. This is not giving everything away. You do not give up your things or your family. You give up your grip on them — the feeling that you own them. The second picture is a court of justice: priceless law, priceless court, priceless scales and weights, priceless mercy and command. But unlike the human courts Guru Nanak knew, this court is built to bless, not to punish. Its special mark is bakhsees — mercy.
Then comes the turn: amulo amul aakhiaa na jaa-ay / aakh aakh rahay liv laa-ay — priceless beyond words; and yet, keep speaking of it and stay lost in its love. If words cannot hold it, why keep using them? Because the trying is itself love. Turning your attention toward the One again and again, reaching for what is out of reach — that is the practice. The words are not the place you arrive. They are the walk.
Next comes a long list of everyone who has spoken of it: the Vedas and Puranas, the scholars, Brahma and Indra, the Gopis and Krishna, Shiva, the Siddhas (perfected yogis), the many Buddhas, demons and gods, sages and humble servants. Hindu, Buddhist and folk traditions all appear. All of them have spoken. All of them have come and gone. And still the One is not fully described. The tradition reads these gods and sages not as rivals competing for worship but as many faces of the One. The words are even plural — all the Brahmas, all the Krishnas, all the Shivas — each a mask through which one reality speaks. Naming them shows the One behind them all, praised from every side at once. Even the villains of the old stories are among those praising.
The ending is bold. If the One made as many beings again as already exist, even they could not finish describing it. And whoever claims to have done it is "the fool of fools." Being humble in front of something this vast is not weakness. It is simply the truth.
The tradition adds a warning for anyone on a spiritual path. Across these last pauris the same line keeps returning: only it knows itself. That repetition marks the last step of letting go. The moment you say "I know," the self has crept back in — and earned the title Guru Nanak saves for it here. Knowledge is a boat, not a home: it carries you across, and then you leave it at the far bank. And tasting is not the same as mastering. You can taste a cake without knowing how to bake it, and describe it forever without ever capturing it. The honest heart keeps tasting, and stays quiet about how much it knows.
Is there someone in your life who claims to have all the answers about the deepest questions — where we come from, what happens after death, what life means? How do you feel about that certainty? Does it reassure you, or does something in you question it?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI