har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
main dil se pareshan hu, dil mujhse pareshan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
main dil se pareshan hu, ye mujhse pareshan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain

khush khandosh bulbul, bahkaye gulo gul
khush khandosh bulbul, gar balkhaye gulo mul
har ek hansin chij kom chhune ki umang hain
main aag ka hun kahta hain, ye shahad ka rang hain
main kah ke pashemaa hun, ye sunke pashemaa hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
khush khandosh bulbul, bahkaye gulo gul
khush khandosh bulbul, gar balkhaye gulo mul

hain jism hansin lekin poshak ye tang hain
kyun baandh ke rakha hain, ye udane ki patang hain
ho ho ho
hain jism hansin lekin poshak ye tang hain
kyun baandh ke rakha hain, ye udane ki patang hain
main ispe meharbaan hu, ye mujhpe meharbaan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
main dil se pareshan hu, ye mujhse pareshan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
har baat pe hairaan hain, murakh hain ye naadan hain
khush khandosh bulbul, bahkaye gulo gul
khush khandosh bulbul, gar balkhaye gulo mul
khush khandosh bulbul, bahkaye gulo gul
khush khandosh bulbul, gar balkhaye gulo mul

They are bewildered, fools, oblivious to all,
At every turn they stand, and stumble, and fall.
They are bewildered, fools, oblivious to all,
My heart is troubled, and troubled by my call.
They are bewildered, fools, oblivious to all,
At every turn they stand, and stumble, and fall.

The vagrant nightingale, intoxicated by the rose,
Dances in the garden, where the sweet nectar flows.
A thirst to grasp all beauty, a longing to embrace,
I, a fire, they claim, and sweetness in their space.
I, remorseful, have spoken, they, remorseful, now weep,
They are bewildered, fools, oblivious to all,
At every turn they stand, and stumble, and fall.
The vagrant nightingale, intoxicated by the rose,
Dances in the garden, where the sweet nectar flows.

The body, beautiful, but the garment, a cage,
Why bind what is meant to soar, to turn a new page?
The body, beautiful, but the garment, a cage,
Why bind what is meant to soar, to turn a new page?
I am kind to this form, and it, kind back to me,
They are bewildered, fools, oblivious to all,
At every turn they stand, and stumble, and fall.
My heart is troubled, and troubled by my call.
They are bewildered, fools, oblivious to all,
At every turn they stand, and stumble, and fall.
The vagrant nightingale, intoxicated by the rose,
Dances in the garden, where the sweet nectar flows.
The vagrant nightingale, intoxicated by the rose,
Dances in the garden, where the sweet nectar flows.