Sin is a stone which does not float.

So let the Fear of God be the boat to carry your soul across.

Says Nanak, rare are those who are blessed with this Boat. ||4||2||

Maaroo, First Mehl, First House:

Actions are the paper, and the mind is the ink; good and bad are both recorded upon it.

As their past actions drive them, so are mortals driven. There is no end to Your Glorious Virtues, Lord. ||1||

Why do you not keep Him in your consciousness, you mad man?

Forgetting the Lord, your own virtues shall rot away. ||1||Pause||

The night is a net, and the day is a net; there are as many traps as there are moments.

With relish and delight, you continually bite at the bait; you are trapped, you fool - how will you ever escape? ||2||

The body is a furnace, and the mind is the iron within it; the five fires are heating it.

Sin is the charcoal placed upon it, which burns the mind; the tongs are anxiety and worry. ||3||

What was turned to slag is again transformed into gold, if one meets with the Guru.

He blesses the mortal with the Ambrosial Name of the One Lord, and then, O Nanak, the body is held steady. ||4||3||

Maaroo, First Mehl:

In the pure, immaculate waters, both the lotus and the slimy scum are found.

The lotus flower is with the scum and the water, but it remains untouched by any pollution. ||1||

You frog, you will never understand.

You eat the dirt, while you dwell in the immaculate waters. You know nothing of the ambrosial nectar there. ||1||Pause||

You dwell continually in the water; the bumble bee does not dwell there, but it is intoxicated with its fragrance from afar.

Intuitively sensing the moon in the distance, the lotus bows its head. ||2||

The realms of nectar are irrigated with milk and honey; you think you are clever to live in the water.

You can never escape your own inner tendencies, like the love of the flea for blood. ||3||

The fool may live with the Pandit, the religious scholar, and listen to the Vedas and the Shaastras.

You can never escape your own inner tendencies, like the crooked tail of the dog. ||4||

Some are hypocrites; they do not merge with the Naam, the Name of the Lord. Some are absorbed in the Feet of the Lord, Har, Har.

The mortals obtain what they are predestined to receive; O Nanak, with your tongue, chant the Naam. ||5||4||

Maaroo, First Mehl,

Salok:

Countless sinners are sanctified, attaching their minds to the Feet of the Lord.

The merits of the sixty-eight places of pilgrimage are found in God's Name, O Nanak, when such destiny is inscribed upon one's forehead. ||1||

Shabad:

O friends and companions, so puffed up with pride,

listen to this one joyous story of your Husband Lord. ||1||

Who can I tell about my pain, O my mother?

Without the Lord, my soul cannot survive; how can I comfort it, O my mother? ||1||Pause||

I am a dejected, discarded bride, totally miserable.

I have lost my youth; I regret and repent. ||2||

You are my wise Lord and Master, above my head.

I serve You as Your humble slave. ||3||

Nanak humbly prays, this is my only concern:

without the Blessed Vision of my Beloved, how can I enjoy Him? ||4||5||