1 My mind, why this fretting and fussing,
does the Divine not sustain you?Were beings not created among the rocks and mountains
with their food laid out before?
Husband of the World, the truly faithful are liberated,
By the grace of the Guru, we win the highest station,
Hearts, dry as wood, blossom lush green.
2 Our mothers who bore us, our fathers, neighbours,
sons and wives—no one is anyone’s support;The Creator cherishes each and every being;
why then should you fear, my mind?
3 The crane flies high, travels hundreds of miles,
leaving her young ones behind.Who feeds them? Who teaches them to peck?
My mind, have you ever considered this?
4 The nine treasures and the eighteen powers are held
in the palm of the Ruler’s hand.Says Nanak the slave, I offer myself, again and again,
I offer myself. Your limits cannot be encompassed.