Monday, July 17, 2006
'Uncrowned Prince of Machiwara' by Karnail Singh Gyani
In the early hours of a rosy dawn,
I couldn’t believe what I came upon.
A forest overgrown with thistles,
And a chilling wind that rustles and whistles.
A wilderness for the human’s to scare,
Then suddenly looked with a vacant stare.
By a thicket over an unhewn mound,
A gentle soul lay on the ground.
The weary traveler must have lost his way,
Could be resting till the break of day
A special glow I saw on his face,
As if bestowed with heavenly grace.
A steel bracelet adorned his arm,
The turban matched his regal form
An unsheathed sword lay by his side,
The tattered cloak, his limbs didn’t hide.
My heart cried to watch his plight,
His blistered soles were a dreadful sight.
From the bleeding feet, the earth got red,
On his arm, did rest his princely head.
One could easily tell, from his half opened eyes,
Beckoning to some one up there in the skies.
I watched his lips quiver in a mumble,
The prayer of JAPJI, in a voice so humble.
With folded hands and upward gaze,
He seated himself, in the Lord’s praise.
And then addressed the power sublime,
“O God of Universe of all the time
Whatever I vowed on the Hemkunt Mount,
At long last I can tender an account.
To rid this land of the aggressor,
And teach a lesson to the oppressor,
I cast off all rituals of yore,
And raised Khalsa, a Band-of-the-Pure
They hold the standard of truth so high,
Sat Sri Akal is their battle-cry.
To the down-trodden, they always shield,
But never turn their back to the field.
Some day, like a tree, will this sapling grow,
As a beacon of light, forever shall glow.
“O Holy Father, O King of Kings,
To ensure well being of all siblings,
I have now renounced all worldly things,
And that includes my Four Offsprings.
I know that ends my posterity,
But acclaim must I, in sincerity
Cause their devotion has no parity,
May Khalsa live in prosperity.”
I couldn’t believe what I came upon.
A forest overgrown with thistles,
And a chilling wind that rustles and whistles.
A wilderness for the human’s to scare,
Then suddenly looked with a vacant stare.
By a thicket over an unhewn mound,
A gentle soul lay on the ground.
The weary traveler must have lost his way,
Could be resting till the break of day
A special glow I saw on his face,
As if bestowed with heavenly grace.
A steel bracelet adorned his arm,
The turban matched his regal form
An unsheathed sword lay by his side,
The tattered cloak, his limbs didn’t hide.
My heart cried to watch his plight,
His blistered soles were a dreadful sight.
From the bleeding feet, the earth got red,
On his arm, did rest his princely head.
One could easily tell, from his half opened eyes,
Beckoning to some one up there in the skies.
I watched his lips quiver in a mumble,
The prayer of JAPJI, in a voice so humble.
With folded hands and upward gaze,
He seated himself, in the Lord’s praise.
And then addressed the power sublime,
“O God of Universe of all the time
Whatever I vowed on the Hemkunt Mount,
At long last I can tender an account.
To rid this land of the aggressor,
And teach a lesson to the oppressor,
I cast off all rituals of yore,
And raised Khalsa, a Band-of-the-Pure
They hold the standard of truth so high,
Sat Sri Akal is their battle-cry.
To the down-trodden, they always shield,
But never turn their back to the field.
Some day, like a tree, will this sapling grow,
As a beacon of light, forever shall glow.
“O Holy Father, O King of Kings,
To ensure well being of all siblings,
I have now renounced all worldly things,
And that includes my Four Offsprings.
I know that ends my posterity,
But acclaim must I, in sincerity
Cause their devotion has no parity,
May Khalsa live in prosperity.”
