Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
The true teacher, the great giver, planted the Name firmly inside me so it would hold. By great good luck, I got to see the Guru, really see. Now the truest, sweetest taste is in me, and even my words turn into nectar when I speak them. Through the Perfect Guru, that deathless sweetness is mine to take.
The key verb is dirhaaiaa — "implanted, made firm." The Guru did not merely mention the Naam; the Guru planted it so deeply it took root and will hold. This matters: a passing inspiration fades, but something dirh (firmly fixed) survives the storms. The Naam, once truly planted by the Guru, becomes part of the soul's structure rather than a mood that passes.
This pauri layers amrit (the nectar of deathlessness) over sach (the real, the permanent). Amrit ras sach amrit bolee — the taste is nectar, the truth is nectar, and even speech becomes nectar. There is a beautiful idea hidden here: when the Naam is firmly planted, it changes what comes out of you. Your very words become amrit bolee — nectar-speech, words that heal and sweeten rather than wound. What you are full of is what you pour out; fill with nectar, and nectar is what you give the world.
And again, vadbhaagee — great good fortune — frames the darshan (the seeing of the Guru) as grace. The seeker keeps insisting she did not manufacture any of this; it was given (daatai, the Giver). The amrit is leechai — taken, received — from the Perfect Guru. This is the steadying middle of the shabad: the unreachable One of the Rahao has now been planted firmly within, and it is reshaping even how the seeker speaks.
What you are full of tends to come out in how you speak. If your words became "nectar," what would you need to be filled with first?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI