You are
sandalwood, and I am the poor castor oil plant, dwelling close to you.
From a lowly tree, I have become exalted; Your fragrance, Your exquisite
fragrance now permeates me. ||1||
O Lord, I seek the Sanctuary of the company of Your Saints;
I am worthless, and You are so benevolent. ||1||Pause||
You are the white and yellow threads of silk, and I am like a poor worm.
O Lord, I seek to live in the Company of the Saints, like the bee with
its honey. ||2||
My social status is low, my ancestry is low, and my birth is low as
well.
I have not performed the service of the Lord, the Lord, says Ravi Daas
the cobbler. ||3||3|| |