Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
Out of water, the fish cannot live; the rainbird cannot live without the raindrop.
The deer is drawn by the hunter's bell and pierced by the arrow; the bee is trapped in the flower's scent.
The saints are entranced by the One's feet; Nanak, they long for nothing else.
The Vaar gathers a garland of creature-love-similes (the raag's signature, as in Shabad 21): the fish that dies out of water, the rainbird thirsting for the raindrop, the deer drawn helplessly toward the hunter's bell, the bee trapped in the flower's fragrance. Each creature is bound utterly to its one beloved thing — some to their life (fish, rainbird), some even to their peril (deer, bee). And the saints are like this toward the One: "entranced... they desire nothing else." The similes teach single-hearted love — a devotion so complete that, like the fish to water, nothing else will do and nothing else is even wanted.
What would it be like to love something so completely that, like a fish with water, nothing else could ever take its place?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI