Ramdev Pir Ni Chalisa

Hail, hail Ramdev, king of gods; Ajmal’s son of wondrous play.

Vishnu-formed lord of gods and men; supremely glorious inner-knower.

Taking avatar you came to earth, called Tanwar line’s ornament.

You accomplished saints’ tasks, destroying demons, giants, villains.

The first miracle you showed your father — milk in the parinda(?) vessel.

Saffron footprints you showed in the courtyard, appearing in the cradle.

The second miracle your mother witnessed — lifting the boiling milk-pot.

The third miracle townsfolk witnessed — a rag-made horse come alive(?).

The fourth miracle — slaying Bhairav, ending devotees’ woes.

The fifth miracle Ratna witnessed — freeing Pugla(?) from the noose.

The sixth miracle Vijaysinh witnessed — the burnt town seeking refuge.

The seventh miracle Sugna witnessed — the dead son came laughing back.

The eighth miracle the merchant witnessed, bringing much wealth from abroad.

You saved the whirlpool-sinking boat, the avatar arriving at the call.

The ninth miracle Viram witnessed, when the trader told his plight.

The tenth miracle the Banjara witnessed — sweets turned to salt.

The eleventh miracle of your grace — salt turned back to sweets.

The twelfth miracle — kicking, you created the beloved Niklang(?) stream.

The thirteenth miracle — Pirs came; bringing bowls, all tasks done.

The fourteenth miracle Jabho(?) witnessed — making his lake’s water brackish.

The fifteenth miracle retold — the Lord had Ram-sarovar dug.

The sixteenth miracle Harbu witnessed, rejoicing greatly at your vision.

The seventeenth miracle Harji(?) witnessed — milk came to goats’ udders.

You watered the dry stream; Harji granted self-knowledge.

The eighteenth miracle the hakim witnessed — rolling the sleeper on the ground.

The nineteenth miracle Dalji(?) witnessed, rejoicing gaining a son.

The twentieth miracle the Sethani witnessed; the Lord came hearing her choked voice.

At once the Seth was revived, granted manifest fearlessness.

The twenty-first miracle — the thief went blind, reaping his deeds.

The twenty-second miracle Mir(?) witnessed — the Lord pierced seven griddles(?).

The twenty-third miracle the emperor witnessed, never troubling devotees again.

The twenty-fourth miracle Bakhshi(?) witnessed — the dead son rose in a moment.

Whenever anyone remembered, you came giving your vision.

Hearing devotees’ cries you rush, swiftly mounting Leela (your horse).

Whoever sings the Lord’s play gains wished-for fruits.

Whoever hears and recites this Chalisa sees every woe cut away.

Hail, hail, hail, playful Lord; your glory knows no bounds.

Fool that I am, how shall I sing your virtues? Whence bring Sharada-like wit?

No wit, strength, or trace of learning — this Chalisa follows my humble mind.

All servants shelter in you; Lord, guard my honour.