The Sikh Calendar: Baramaha: Savan
In Sãvan, be thou happy, 0 my soul. The season has come when the clouds rain. I love my Spouse with my soul and body, but my Darling has gone abroad. My beloved comes not home. I am dying with the sorrow of separation. The flash of lightning terrifies me. Lonely is my couch and I am greatly grieved. I am dying of pain, 0 my mother. Say, without God, how can sleep and appetite come to me ? The raiment affords my body no comfort. Nãnak, she alone is the chaste bride, who merges in the being of her Beloved Spouse.