I am dying, take me to the city where He dwells. Lay me in the dust which caries His footprints and leave me there! Anoint me with the dust under His feet, I am well. I feel my heart-beat singing the old song again. My eyes open on a new world again. My skin bathed in this holy dust is washed with an undreamt of holiness, and out of its pores flows the Ganga of singing nectar! He passes me by, looks at me and smiles. And the lotuses of my navel, my heart and hundred petalled golden Lotus that hangs with its face down, the Oordhva Kamalum of my head all catch the spark from their sun, and spread themselves once again in the glory of their perfect blossom! Perfection lies in the simple, soft touch of the light that comes from Him. I wave with all my lotuses fully blooming in air, on the tender stalk, and with me wave in the blue waters, my own reflection. I wave as waves a beautiful flower-laden lotus fresh on its stalk; I tremble like the Master-struck note of music in space! I shiver like the aspen-leaf touched by the breeze that flows from His doorstep. Purity is not so pure as I! Good-bye! Good-bye! I roll in my bliss. The moon now sparkles on my forehead. How cooling is the spark of life! I have found in Him all the treasures-In Guru Gobind Singh.