Raag Maaroo, First Mehl, First House, Chau-Padhay:

One Universal Creator God. Truth Is The Name. Creative Being Personified. No Fear. No Hatred. Image Of The Undying. Beyond Birth. Self-Existent. By Guru's Grace:

Salok:

O my Friend, I shall forever remain the dust of Your feet.

Nanak seeks Your protection, and beholds You ever-present, here and now. ||1||

Shabad:

Those who receive the call in the last hours of the night, chant the Name of their Lord and Master.

Tents, canopies, pavilions and carriages are prepared and made ready for them.

You send out the call, Lord, to those who meditate on Your Name. ||1||

Father, I am unfortunate, a fraud.

I have not found Your Name; my mind is blind and deluded by doubt. ||1||Pause||

I have enjoyed the tastes, and now my pains have come to fruition; such is my pre-ordained destiny, O my mother.

Now my joys are few, and my pains are many. In utter agony, I pass my life. ||2||

What separation could be worse than separation from the Lord? For those who are united with Him, what other union can there be?

Praise the Lord and Master, who, having created this play, beholds it. ||3||

By good destiny, this union comes about; this body enjoys its pleasures.

Those who have lost their destiny, suffer separation from this union. O Nanak, they may still be united once again! ||4||1||

Maaroo, First Mehl:

The union of the mother and father brings the body into being.

The Creator inscribes upon it the inscription of its destiny.

According to this inscription, gifts, light and glorious greatness are received.

Joining with Maya, the spiritual consciousness is lost. ||1||

O foolish mind, why are you so proud?

You shall have to arise and depart when it pleases your Lord and Master. ||1||Pause||

Abandon the tastes of the world, and find intuitive peace.

All must abandon their worldly homes; no one remains here forever.

Eat some, and save the rest,

if you are destined to return to the world again. ||2||

He adorns his body and ress in silk robes.

He issues all sorts of commands.

Preparing his comfortable bed, he sleeps.

When he falls into the hands of the Messenger of Death, what good does it do to cry out? ||3||

Household affairs are whirlpools of entanglements, O Siblings of Destiny.