The state of the faithful: quick commentary on a poem by Guru Nanak
ਮੰਨੇ ਕੀ ਗਤਿ ਕਹੀ ਨ ਜਾਇ ॥ ਜੇ ਕੋ ਕਹੈ ਪਿਛੈ ਪਛੁਤਾਇ ॥ ਕਾਗਦਿ ਕਲਮ ਨ ਲਿਖਣਹਾਰੁ ॥ ਮੰਨੇ ਕਾ ਬਹਿ ਕਰਨਿ ਵੀਚਾਰੁ ॥ ਐਸਾ ਨਾਮੁ ਨਿਰੰਜਨੁ ਹੋਇ ॥ ਜੇ ਕੋ ਮੰਨਿ ਜਾਣੈ ਮਨਿ ਕੋਇ ॥੧੨॥
The state of the faithful cannot be described. / Those who attempt shall regret that they tried. / Neither paper, nor pen, nor scribe by their word, / The state of the faithful can e’er record. / Such is the Name of the Immaculate: / Only by faith can one know of that state.
- Guru Nanak Dev Ji (C.E. 1469-1539)
Religious language is often very tricky. It would be tricky even if there was nothing otherwise remarkable about it, because religious language, by the nature of its use, refers to, expresses, or otherwise circumlocutes so many tangible and intangible features of people’s lives and values. (Religious language shares this elusive yet all-encompassing quality with ethics and aesthetics). But religious language can be tricky in a more concrete, more literal way: Religious language is often literally expressed in a different natural language. Because of their use in ritual, magic, and sometimes law, religious languages are often grammatically conservative, archaic, and highly inflected. The Sanskrit of Valmiki, Homer’s Greek, Jerome’s Latin, Biblical Hebrew, and Qur’anic Arabic are all considerably more complicated than the Hindi, Demotic Greek, Vulgar Latin with its Romance descendants, modern Hebrew, and standard Arabic of later times.
A slightly different elusive quality permeates the language of the Sikh scripture: Sant Bhasha or Gurmukhi isn’t a single language at all. It is (from my understanding) something like a Punjabi base with a poetic pastiche of various Sanskrit, Prakrit, Persian, Apabhramsha, and Arabic words and phrases. The etymologies and local provenances of various words is obscured by a uniform script – the Gurmukhi alphabet attributed to Guru Angad Dev Ji.
This makes translating the Sri Guru Granth Sahib (SGGS) – the collected scriptural poetry and hymns of the Sikh Gurus as well as several Hindu and Sufi saints, which Sikhs venerate as their living and embodied Guru – difficult to say the least.
One of the most difficult things about translating the SGGS is the fact that the ragas are actually quite musical. Especially early on, in the Japji Sahib for example, the short rhyming hymns have made me giggle with delight (really I was giggling at the fact that I finally realized they rhyme at all). Take for instance the 12th poem on page 3 of SGGS:
ਮੰਨੇ ਕੀ ਗਤਿ ਕਹੀ ਨ ਜਾਇ ॥ ਜੇ ਕੋ ਕਹੈ ਪਿਛੈ ਪਛੁਤਾਇ ॥ ਕਾਗਦਿ ਕਲਮ ਨ ਲਿਖਣਹਾਰੁ ॥ ਮੰਨੇ ਕਾ ਬਹਿ ਕਰਨਿ ਵੀਚਾਰੁ ॥ ਐਸਾ ਨਾਮੁ ਨਿਰੰਜਨੁ ਹੋਇ ॥ ਜੇ ਕੋ ਮੰਨਿ ਜਾਣੈ ਮਨਿ ਕੋਇ ॥੧੨॥
A (rough) transliteration (for those who don’t read Gurmukhi) will show that it rhymes:
Mane ki gat kahi na jae / Je ko kahai pichai pachutae / kagad kalam na likhanhar / mane ki bahi karan vichar / aisa nam niranjan hoe / je ko man jinai man koe
This delightful six-line stanza, comprising only ~54 syllables becomes the wordy prose of the Sant Singh Khalsa Version:
The state of the faithful cannot be described. / One who tries to describe this shall regret the attempt. / No paper, no pen, no scribe / can record the state of the faithful. / Such is the Name of the Immaculate Lord. / Only one who has faith comes to know such a state of mind. (12)
The Khalsa Version is probably the most popular today – it’s certainly the most widely used by Sikhs online. The translation has never been terribly moving in English. The first English translation of SGGS by Ernest Trumpp (1877), which was not popular with Sikhs themselves, being as it was a Christian missionary project, translates it thus:
The state of him, by whom (the name) is minded, cannot be told. If one tells it, he repents of it afterwards. There is no paper, pen nor writer (to describe it). Sitting they reflect (on him, by whom the name) is minded. Such is the name of the Supreme Being. If one mind it, he knows it in his heart.
Max Arthur Macauliffe, himself a convert to Sikhism from Christianity who had rather more success and acceptance in translating parts of SGGS, rendered it this way in 1909.
The condition of him who obeyeth God cannot be described. Whoever trieth to describe it, shall afterward repent. There is no paper, or pen, or writer to describe the condition of him who obeyeth God. So pure is His name Whoever obeyeth God knoweth the pleasure of it in his own heart.
Srigranth.org does not have an etymology entry in their dictionary for ਮੰਨੇ (mane), but it seems likely (to me anyway, I could be wrong) that in this case, it comes from the Arabic iman (إيمان) as opposed to an Indian language. But wherever it comes from, what does it mean to be faithful? Is it, as Trumpp has it, about “minding” the Naam, or is it as Macauliffe has it, about obeying God? Both probably? Rani Kaur Deol, in Jap Ji Sahib, An In Depth Analysis (2015) (link), translates ਮੰਨੇ as “believer’s, one whose mind is immersed in God, one who has taken God’s word to the heart.” The whole stanza is translated (in not 100% grammatical English – no judgment):
A believer’s spiritual state cannot be described. If anyone describes thereafter regrets. There is no paper, pen, or any writer (who can accurately describe such state). Others assemble to contemplate over the believer. Such is the Naam of Immaculate Lord. Only if someone else has the faith, that rare mind will understand (believer’s state of mind).
The only widely available English commentary on SGGS, It Is The Same Light: The Enlightening Wisdom of Sri Guru Granth by Sahib Daljit Singh Jawa (2013) (here for link), has the following to say about the passage:
After describing the merits of listening to the Guru’s Word (or Naam), Guru Ji moves to the next stage and describes the blessings and virtues bestowed upon the person who not only listens to Naam, but also truly believes in it.
He says, “It is impossible to describe the high state of mind of a (true) believer (in God’s Name). If some one were to try to describe this state, that person would afterwards repent. (Even when) some sit together to reflect upon the (merits) of a true believer, they find that no pen, no amount of paper, and no writer can narrate the merits of a true believer. Yes, such are the qualities of the immaculate Naam, realized by one who truly believes in it from (the core of his) heart.”(12)
The message of the above stanza is that if we want to acquire high spiritual status, we must have true, internal, and unflinching faith in God’s Naam. (pp 19-20)
But why can’t the state of the faithful, those who really believe in the Name of God, be described? Why even repent the attempt? I am just an anglophone analytic philosopher of religion. But when I read this Bani for the first time, I instantly thought of another poetic composition by the philosopher Wittgenstein. At the end of the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, after elusively discussing immortality, ethics, value, and the afterlife, the last few propositions read as follows:
6.522 There are, indeed, things that cannot be put into words. They make themselves manifest. They are what is mystical.
6.54 My propositions are elucidatory in this way: he who understands me finally recognizes them as senseless, when he has climbed out through them, on them, over them. (He must so to speak throw away the ladder, after he has climbed up on it.) He must transcend these propositions, and then he will see the world aright.
7 What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence.
Other English ways of translating these lines have that: “There is indeed that which cannot be said. It shows itself. It is the mystical.” The early (20-some year old) Wittgenstein thought that language has a whole somehow gestures beyond itself to the realistic, transcendent, “other side” of the world – the side that gives everything within the world its sense. One must climb up the propositions of language so to speak, like a ladder, until language fails you and you must cast it away. (A similar metaphor is used in Buddhism). At that summit of understanding, reality shows itself to you. Only one who sees it for themselves can understand it – there is no way to put it into words. Wittgenstein may have later repudiated (at least in part – depending on who you ask) this “picture theory” of language with its mystical implications. But he never gave up on the idea that even poetic nonsense can have a point in showing you something you’ve long overlooked because of its familiarity.
It occurred to me some time ago that while it probably wouldn’t be possible to do for the whole SGGS, whenever possible, a greater effort should be made at preserving its poetic, musical quality in translation lest it become, as indeed it already has, like the Bible and Qur’an, the victim of dry, monotonous, exercises in cold-blooded academic translation.
This is simply a native English speaker’s modest attempt at an actual poetic rendition of the Bani – certainly not “word for word,” nor even “thought for thought” (for I assume, as the Japji says – the true meaning is unthinkable), but hopefully, rhyme for rhyme:
ਮੰਨੇ ਕੀ ਗਤਿ ਕਹੀ ਨ ਜਾਇ ॥ The state of the faithful cannot be described.
ਜੇ ਕੋ ਕਹੈ ਪਿਛੈ ਪਛੁਤਾਇ ॥ Those who attempt shall regret that they tried.
ਕਾਗਦਿ ਕਲਮ ਨ ਲਿਖਣਹਾਰੁ ॥ Neither paper, nor pen, nor scribe by their word,
ਮੰਨੇ ਕਾ ਬਹਿ ਕਰਨਿ ਵੀਚਾਰੁ ॥ The state of the faithful can e’er record.
ਐਸਾ ਨਾਮੁ ਨਿਰੰਜਨੁ ਹੋਇ ॥ Such is the Name of the Immaculate:
ਜੇ ਕੋ ਮੰਨਿ ਜਾਣੈ ਮਨਿ ਕੋਇ ॥੧੨॥ Only by faith can one know of that state.
NB: And just in case you are not satisfied that that last line really rhymes, one could always try:
ਐਸਾ ਨਾਮੁ ਨਿਰੰਜਨੁ ਹੋਇ ॥ Such is the Name of the Immaculate:
ਜੇ ਕੋ ਮੰਨਿ ਜਾਣੈ ਮਨਿ ਕੋਇ ॥੧੨॥ Only by faith can one know of it
