Inside Harimandir, 1854 (a painting, by William Carpenter)
Come and sit at the navel of the earth,
The birth-place of the Adi-Granth.
See winter shawls, each down-flowing turban.
The sangat listening; the four doors are open.
Rababi art expounds the Guru's Word,
Praise of the Name ascending like a bird.
Hope is fluttering; time has no end
As longing flies to meet the beloved Friend.
The rababi plucks his round-bodied saj -
It's face of goat-skin, the neck - long and large
Resonating deeply - the six taut strings
Tuned to the Sound that the cosmos sings.
How rabaab vibrates within the soul
No one can say exactly. The whole
Of the Nam of Nanak is heard within
Plucking heart-strings and praising the One.
The seva of kirtan began with Mardana;
His descendents maintained the rababi gharana.
Generations have sung since the Guru's day.
Walls dissolve when their instruments play.
Some could sing the rain from a raga,
Through shabad's power and sur sadhana.
The science of song only rare ones hold,
Passed from Guru Nanak like precious gold.
Kirtan is the bone-marrow of this place -
Its golden walls and upper-vaulted space.
The Lord is Sound: the Resonance lives on
At Hari Mandir Sahib, the Temple of Song.
A mother and child have had their darshan;
Sparrows come and go, the doors are open.
The scene's the same as the painter once saw:
Worship through music sits humbly on the floor.
Chris Mooney Singh
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Come and sit at the navel of the earth,
The birth-place of the Adi-Granth.
See winter shawls, each down-flowing turban.
The sangat listening; the four doors are open.
Rababi art expounds the Guru's Word,
Praise of the Name ascending like a bird.
Hope is fluttering; time has no end
As longing flies to meet the beloved Friend.
The rababi plucks his round-bodied saj -
It's face of goat-skin, the neck - long and large
Resonating deeply - the six taut strings
Tuned to the Sound that the cosmos sings.
How rabaab vibrates within the soul
No one can say exactly. The whole
Of the Nam of Nanak is heard within
Plucking heart-strings and praising the One.
The seva of kirtan began with Mardana;
His descendents maintained the rababi gharana.
Generations have sung since the Guru's day.
Walls dissolve when their instruments play.
Some could sing the rain from a raga,
Through shabad's power and sur sadhana.
The science of song only rare ones hold,
Passed from Guru Nanak like precious gold.
Kirtan is the bone-marrow of this place -
Its golden walls and upper-vaulted space.
The Lord is Sound: the Resonance lives on
At Hari Mandir Sahib, the Temple of Song.
A mother and child have had their darshan;
Sparrows come and go, the doors are open.
The scene's the same as the painter once saw:
Worship through music sits humbly on the floor.
Chris Mooney Singh
Chris mooney singh has composed a beutiful poem for popularizing old tradition of Rabab.Pictur of harimandir sahib inside in 1854 with ragis singign with rabab is available at link that follows.Readers of forum are to express their views how objective of developing taste for kirtan in tradtional gurabni raagas can be achieved?http://www.geocities.com/sydney_sikhi/Poems/poems.html
G.S.guglani
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