P O E M
Sikhi
Translation by Ajit Singh (MD)

April 27, 2003

Which is this plant?
What is this sapling,
That survives anywhere,
And does thrive all over.
Be it under the teeth of saws,
Or under the mason's hammer,
Be it tossed by turbulent Sarsa,
Or out in the rugged Khyber,
Be it on the banks of Satluj,
Or dug under the walls of Sirhand,
Be it in the Lakhi jungles,
Or in midst of rocky rubbles,
You may plant it any where.
It survives and it thrives.
The more you cut or mow it down,
The more it grows back with a frown.

Which is this plant?
Who gives its sap to the thirsty,
And its fruit to the hungry.
It soothes the tired with its shade,
And shelters those who seek refuge.
If whirlwinds rise, holocausts grow,
As Abdalis or Nadir Shahs,
It gathers tiny twittering birds,
The hapless sparrows,
The innocent doves,
The droves of cranes.
Then, for them it makes a nest,
And stands alert just to protect,
Like a real Savior.

Rooted deep down in this Earth
It stands with head held high.
Be it jail-cells, chains or shackles,
The hangman's noose,
Or ruler's lurid tentacles,
With tempting bribes of lands and titles,
Divide-and-rule partisan games,
Or some petty selfish gains,
Of wayward comforts, lavish pleasures,
Or Jhang's legendary maidens.
None of these detract its zeal,
And lie spurned under its heel.

Where this plant rises,
And holds its head,
The ground is high,
Skies wide open,
The air is pure,
And there is no place for hatreds,
And there is no trace of foes.
Immersed in God's eternal Word,
It just lives in worldly robes.

Translated by Ajit Singh for the Baisakhi celebrations at Washington Sikh Center, MD.
Based on extracts from the original poem, 'SIKHI', in Punjabi, by Prof. Mohan Singh
in 'SAWE PATAR' : Lahore Book Shop, Lajpat Rai Market, Ludhiana, Punjab, India .
This book was first published around 1936.

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