khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe
heiraan tujhko dekha ke main kya kahu tujhe

khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe
hairaan tujhko dekha ke
hairaan tujhko dekha ke, main kya kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe
hairaan tujhko dekha ke
hairaan tujhko dekha ke, main kya kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe

ik pyaas jalti rehti hai is dil ke aas paas
ik pyaas jalti rehti hai is dil ke aas paas
gar tu bura na maan to
gar tu bura na maan to, dariya kahu tujhe
gar tu bura na maan to, dariya kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe

jaise ki jee uthi ho kisi baasuri ki taan
jaise ki jee uthi ho kisi baasuri ki taan
mathura ke ban mein nachati
mathura ke ban mein nachati, radha kahu tujhe
mathura ke ban mein nachati, radha kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe

tere badan ka saya hai najuk surahiya
tere badan ka saya hai najuk surahiya
patthar ka dar na ho to main
patthar ka dar na ho to main, sisha kahu tujhe
patthar ka darr na hoto main, sisha kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe
hairaan tujhko dekha ke
hairaan tujhko dekha ke, main kya kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe
khushbu khyal rang ke nagma kahu tujhe

A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you,
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.
Bewildered, gazing at you, what can I say?
Bewildered, gazing at you, what can I say?
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.

A thirst still burns around this heart of mine,
A thirst still burns around this heart of mine.
If you'd not be offended, then,
If you'd not be offended, then, a river I'd call you.
If you'd not be offended, then, a river I'd call you.
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.

As if reborn, a melody from a flute,
As if reborn, a melody from a flute.
Dancing in the forests of Mathura,
Dancing in the forests of Mathura, Radha I'd call you.
Dancing in the forests of Mathura, Radha I'd call you.
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.

Your body's shadow, delicate as a pitcher,
Your body's shadow, delicate as a pitcher.
If fear of stone were not, then,
If fear of stone were not, then, a mirror I'd call you.
If fear of stone were not, then, a mirror I'd call you.
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.
Bewildered, gazing at you, what can I say?
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.
A song of scent, of thought, of hues, I sing to you.