Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
My mind is enticed — caught, drawn in — by the honey-sweet beauty of the oneness.
Day and night, I thirst for it.
Bestow the water of Your mercy on Nanak, the thirsty song-bird, so that I may come to dwell in Your Name.
This one ends the aartee with a simple, honest wish: I am thirsty for You.
After all the grand pictures — the sky as the plate, the stars as pearls, the wind as the fan — the last line is close and personal. I am thirsty. Please give me water.
Kirpaa jal deh naanak saaring ka-o — give the water of Your kindness to Nanak, the song-bird. The saaring, also called the chaatrik, is a bird in Indian poems that drinks only rainwater. In dry weather it keeps calling for rain.
Wanting something this much is not weakness. It is the most honest place to stand. You know what you need, and you ask for it plainly, like a child asking for a glass of water on a hot day.
So the ceremony does not end with being full. It ends with a longing that knows exactly where to look.
Is there something you genuinely long for — not an object or a status, but a quality of being — something that feels essential to who you are? What would it feel like to have it?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI