Dwell in peace in the home of your own being, and the Messenger of Death will not be able to touch you.

With your hands carve out your own destiny.

Sing the songs of joy to the Lord, serve the Name of the Lord, and become the servant of His servants.

O my heart! Love God as the chatrik loves the rain drops, Who even when fountains are full and the land green, Is not satisfied as long as it cannot get a drop of rain.

Speak only that which will bring you honor.

Offspring, the due performance on religious rites, faithful service, highest conjugal happiness and heavenly bliss for the ancestors and oneself, depend on one's wife alone.

Through True Love, she merges with Him. She who does not know her Husband Lord, the Architect of karma, is deluded by falsehood she herself is false.