maahi jhula de
jhule nazar dagar dagar kaahe bata tori
baat koi bole tore manva chori chori
naino me kyu phul phule hai
bata bata gori

doli doli kaahe firo bolo radha rani
bolo kyun jiyaara ko aaye jhula re
bolo kyun jiyaara ko aaye jhula re
aaye jhula re

udi udi aati re tu udi udi jaati
kya kisi ne baat kahi koi man bhati
suratiya muratiya badli kyu tori
sakhiyo saheliyo se kya chhupaye chhori
bolo bolo bolo radha rani
bolo kyun jiyaara ko aaye jhula re
bolo kyun jiyaara ko aaye jhula re
aaye jhula re

khoi khoi kaun sa hisaab jodti ho
kaun se sawal ka jawab jodti ho
kaun se vichar pe vichar kare chhori
manva ma kaun si kitaab jode chhori
bolo radha rani
bolo kyun jiyaara ko aaye jhula re
bolo kyun jiyaara ko aaye jhula re
maula na jhuri ka jaai phula re
maula na jhuri ka jaai phula re
jaai phulo re

keli kadam tole kola
kaan hu basu kori
bojai dile mohan
betho jamuna kola thori
jthe sakhi phool hai
lena man kori se kori
polai kole poisi
thori paulo radha rani
maula na jhuri ka jaai phula re
maula na jhuri ka jaai phula re
jaai phulo re

The swing sways,
Why does your gaze wander, path by path?
What whispers steal from your heart's core?
Why do blossoms bloom in your eyes,
Tell me, maiden, tell me?

Dolly, dolly, why do you roam, speak, Radha Rani?
Why does your spirit swing?
Why does your spirit swing?
Swing, it does swing.

Flying, you arrive, flying, you depart,
Did someone speak words that please your heart?
Why has your image and form changed,
What are you hiding from your friends?
Speak, speak, speak, Radha Rani,
Why does your spirit swing?
Why does your spirit swing?
Swing, it does swing.

Lost in thought, what sum are you making?
What question's answer are you crafting?
What thoughts do you ponder, maiden?
What book does your heart compile, maiden?
Speak, Radha Rani,
Why does your spirit swing?
Why does your spirit swing?
The soul will not wither, blossoming it will be.
The soul will not wither, blossoming it will be.
It will blossom.

By the Kadam's play,
The ears hear only,
My heart is the home of Mohan,
Seated on the Yamuna's shore,
With friends, the feeling is felt.
Take the heart from the virgin.
In the play of love,
Tell me, Radha Rani.
The soul will not wither, blossoming it will be.
The soul will not wither, blossoming it will be.
It will blossom.