Ravidas Chalisa

Victory to you, Ravidas; show mercy, benefactor of Hari’s people.

Devotee Rahu(?) your father; Karma(?) your mother by name.

Near Kashi, at Madur(?) dwelling, living beyond caste touch.

When twelve years of age arrived, Hari’s devotion filled your heart.

You were called Ramananda’s disciple, gaining wisdom, spreading your name.

In Kashi you debated scriptures, instructing the learned.

Boundless devotee of Mother Ganga, you gave her a shell as gift.

Pandits carried it off, offering it to Mother Ganga.

Stretching her hand, she took the fourfold(?) gift, proclaiming the devotee’s boundless glory.

Kashi’s pandits marvelled, beholding the world-fear-ending deed.

Then she gave a jewel-studded bracelet, making Ravidas worthy.

“Give it, pandit, to my devotee, my servant since primal birth.”

The pandit reached Ravidas, giving the bracelet, fulfilling desire.

Then Ravidas spoke: “Father, bring the second bracelet.”

The pandits swore: Mother Ganga gave no second one.

Then Ravidas uttered words bringing all pandits joy.

Whoever keeps the heart ever pure — Mother Ganga dwells in their home.

Then he dipped his hand in the wooden bowl, drawing out a second bracelet.

The pandits shrank in heart, each taking their own road.

Since then runs the saying: pure heart finds Ganga in the wooden bowl.

Once again trouble befell; the pandits together schemed a game.

“Whoever floats Shaligram-Ram across the Ganga is the staunchest devotee.”

All went to Ganga’s banks to float idols mid-waters.

All sank midstream; boundless grief filled every heart.

The stone idol stayed afloat; gods and men together cheered.

Your name, Ravidas, endured; the town rang with acclaim.

Tearing your body, you streamed milk, showing the birth-thread.

Seeing, all men and women marvelled; scholars forgot all learning.

You debated wisdom with Kabir, leaving even him amazed.

You instructed Guru Gorakh, who honoured you as a rare saint.

With Sadhna the Pir you long debated, then instructed him.

Inwardly Sadhna(?) yielded; the news spread through Delhi.

Hearing Islam maligned, Lodhi Sikandar grew enraged.

He summoned you home, urging you to turn Muslim.

You heeded not his word, spending nights(?) in prison.

Ravidas beheld Krishna; all your hopes bore fruit.

Locks broke, prison opened; you ... Sikandar(?).

He escorted you to Kashi city, granting lordship and honour.

Meera, adept in yoga, took you as guru — she of Kshatriya line.

Granting her boundless teaching, you delivered her from existence.