Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
I have one prayer — please listen, dear One. Watching the wonders You make, my whole heart and being are swept up in wonder.
Seeing all that You do, I am enchanted — but how can a longing heart feel settled until we meet? You are full of every good thing, kind and endlessly young, overflowing with beauty.
The distance is never Your fault, Giver of peace; it's only my own missteps that made me feel far.
So I pray: be gentle with me, and come home, dear One.
The pauri turns the longing of Pauri 0 into direct address. The soul is mohee — enchanted — by the beauty of creation (chalat, the divine "play" or wonders of the world), yet still restless, because wonder at the gift makes you long all the more for the Giver. The line pir dos naahee... ha-o vichhurhee buri-aaray — "the fault is not my Beloved's; I am separated by my own mistakes" — is handled here as empty-handedness, not self-condemnation: the soul simply owns that the distance is on its side, never blaming and never groveling. The Beloved is described only with tenderness (gunvant, da-i-aal, baalaa — meritorious, merciful, ever-young). The closing plea — ghar aavhu — is the ache to have the Beloved "come home," the very homecoming the next pauris deliver.
When something beautiful takes your breath away, does it ever make you want to thank whoever made it?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI