Caught in the rhythm of the sacred dance,
I dance this dance for you.
Moving to the music of the pipes and drum,
Each step is sure and true.

When the Lord of the Dance taps the time,
The heavens shake and move,
The planets spin, the comets streak,
Whole worlds burst forth anew.

His tresses stretch from star to star,
Wild magics dance their length.
One hair is tied tight to my heart,
Like iron in its strength.
On that hair He plucks His tune,
Fey strains stream through the air.
I dance His dance like a puppet on a string,
His hand controls each move.

My Lord’s a minstrel, a piper, a drummer,
His music makes mountains sing!
He beckons and all His creatures throng,
At His call they prance and spring.
The cosmos sprouts from His mighty song,
A harmony divine!

— Bhai Din