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SikhRI – Month of Poh
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The Month of Poh (ਪੋਹ)
The month of Poh has arrived,
My shawl is soaked.
Cold bites my bones
and my being shivers.
Where have you gone?
You left me all alone.
Why have you gone?
I have no knowledge.
The nights of Poh are relentless,
like the mountain’s harshness.
I cannot see the moon and stars.
Every night is torturous.
O’ Beloved! Without you,
my courtyard is empty.
My home is foreign.
Alone, I weep.
O’ Beloved!
Without you, I am nothing.
Tell me,
Do you feel something?
O’ Beloved!
I wait,
in agony,
for you…
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