Raag Bhairao, Shabad (four stanzas with rahau), Bhagat Kabir
Naked we come and naked we go; even the golden fortress is left behind.
The Arc
A meditation on impermanence that never tips into gloom. It opens with the oldest plain truth — we come and go empty-handed, kings included — and then, in the rahau, names the counter-treasure: the One is already every riches he needs. The middle stanzas strip away the status symbols (elephants at the gate, Raawan's golden Lanka) not to shame the wealthy but to show that none of it makes the crossing. The hymn lands on a warm, practical instruction: do some good now. Where a lesser poem would leave you frightened of loss, Kabir hands you something to do — goodness is the portable wealth.
Key Vocabulary
Naange — naked, empty-handed. Raajaa raanaa — kings and queens. Nau nidh — the nine legendary treasures. Sampai / kalat / dhan — possessions / spouse / wealth. Haathee — elephants (a status symbol). Raavan / Lankaa — the king and golden city of the old epics. Moorakh — foolish (here, the folly of clinging, not a slur). Gun — virtue, goodness. Ju-aaree — a gambler.
Themes and Cross-Connections
This sits directly beside the opening shabad's answer (the Name as the one wealth) and gives the shadow side: what happens to those who bank on everything else. The theme is ancient and cross-traditional — “you can't take it with you” — but Kabir's turn is characteristically active: not “despair of the world” but “spend your short time making goodness.” It rhymes with the whole GGS insistence that virtue and the Name, not accumulation, are what accompany the soul.
For Raag Bhairao
In bright, wakeful Bhairao, this reads less like a funeral bell and more like a morning reminder to travel light and pack the right things. Its energy is clarifying, not mournful.
Translation Notes
— Wellbeing: the death/impermanence imagery (“naked we go,” “no one remains”) is deliberately framed as freeing rather than frightening — the hymn's own move — and lands on a doable, hopeful instruction. — Raawan rendered respectfully as a figure from “an old story / the old epics,” not as a demon to fear; moorakh softened to the folly of clinging rather than an insult to a person. — Puranic reference (nau nidhi, Lanka) handled as shared cultural story, evenhandedly. — The gambler image kept as a life-pattern, not a condemnation of any person.
Naked we come and naked we go; even the golden fortress is left behind.
The Arc
A meditation on impermanence that never tips into gloom. It opens with the oldest plain truth — we come and go empty-handed, kings included — and then, in the rahau, names the counter-treasure: the One is already every riches he needs. The middle stanzas strip away the status symbols (elephants at the gate, Raawan's golden Lanka) not to shame the wealthy but to show that none of it makes the crossing. The hymn lands on a warm, practical instruction: do some good now. Where a lesser poem would leave you frightened of loss, Kabir hands you something to do — goodness is the portable wealth.
Key Vocabulary
Naange — naked, empty-handed. Raajaa raanaa — kings and queens. Nau nidh — the nine legendary treasures. Sampai / kalat / dhan — possessions / spouse / wealth. Haathee — elephants (a status symbol). Raavan / Lankaa — the king and golden city of the old epics. Moorakh — foolish (here, the folly of clinging, not a slur). Gun — virtue, goodness. Ju-aaree — a gambler.
Themes and Cross-Connections
This sits directly beside the opening shabad's answer (the Name as the one wealth) and gives the shadow side: what happens to those who bank on everything else. The theme is ancient and cross-traditional — “you can't take it with you” — but Kabir's turn is characteristically active: not “despair of the world” but “spend your short time making goodness.” It rhymes with the whole GGS insistence that virtue and the Name, not accumulation, are what accompany the soul.
For Raag Bhairao
In bright, wakeful Bhairao, this reads less like a funeral bell and more like a morning reminder to travel light and pack the right things. Its energy is clarifying, not mournful.
Translation Notes
— Wellbeing: the death/impermanence imagery (“naked we go,” “no one remains”) is deliberately framed as freeing rather than frightening — the hymn's own move — and lands on a doable, hopeful instruction. — Raawan rendered respectfully as a figure from “an old story / the old epics,” not as a demon to fear; moorakh softened to the folly of clinging rather than an insult to a person. — Puranic reference (nau nidhi, Lanka) handled as shared cultural story, evenhandedly. — The gambler image kept as a life-pattern, not a condemnation of any person.