ਨਿਸਿ ਬਾਸੁਰ ਪ੍ਰਿਅ ਪ੍ਰਿਅ ਮੁਖਿ ਟੇਰਉ ਨੀਦ ਪਲਕ ਨਹੀ ਜਾਗਿਓ ॥
nis baasur pari-a pari-a mukh tayra-o neeNd palak nahee jaagi-o.
Night and day, I utter, "Pri-a, Pri-a - Beloved, Beloved" with my mouth. I cannot sleep, even for an instant; I remain awake and aware.
ਹਾਰ ਕਜਰ ਬਸਤ੍ਰ ਅਨਿਕ ਸੀਗਾਰ ਰੇ ਬਿਨੁ ਪਿਰ ਸਭੈ ਬਿਖੁ ਲਾਗਿਓ ॥੧॥
haar kajar bastar anik seegaar ray bin pir sabhai bikh laagi-o. ||1||
Necklaces, eye make-up, fancy clothes and decorations - without my Husband Lord, these are all poison to me. ||1||
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
All day and all night, one word keeps rising in me: Beloved, Beloved. I can hardly sleep for the wanting.
Pretty things — jewelry, nice clothes, everything meant to make me look good — feel empty now. Without the One I love, none of it means a thing.
Without the One you love, even the prettiest things feel empty.
The repeated "Priya, Priya" is naam simran in the language of love — the Beloved's name rising on its own, day and night. The list of ornaments set aside "without the Beloved" is the soul saying that outward beauty is hollow when the inner union is missing. "Poison" here means simply lifeless and empty, not literally harmful.
A Question to Sit With
What is something that only feels special when the right person is there to share it?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI
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