Saturday, February 21, 2009



A true Sikh is a disciple of his Guru

With crown of turban on his head,

With sober face and shining eyes,

He is always calm and never red,

Among billions of men he stands aloof,

To homeless people, he provides roof.

He is an image of harmony and peace,

A hater of vice, evil and war,

A protector of the weak and needy,

His fame has spread near and far,

Terror of the tyrants, a support of the meek,

In his noble praise, we find no words to speak.

Against injustice he raises his voice,

For honour he is prepared to die,

Truth and courage are his weapons,

For selfish gain, he would not lie,

He is an enviable image of grace,

He upholds the dignity of his race.

He is a soldier, he is a saint,

Pure and spotless is his life,

He frightens none, and fears from none,

He is a lover of struggle and strife,

For meditation, he reserves his breath,

He is immune to life and death.

He is a defender of his Faith,

He cares a fig for worldly wealth,

He is an achiever par excellence,

A model of indefineable health,

He treats alike his friends and foes,

He stands like a rock in weal and woes.

If all the Sikhs emulate his role,

And evince their readiness for sacrifice,

They would restore their past glory,

When they cultivate virtue and shun vice,

Sikhism would then scale new height,

Darkness would vanish to pave way for Light.

(By Principal S.S. Prince)

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