patti patti gulaab ho jati, har kali mehar-e-khaab ho jati
tune daali naa mehfisha najare, warna shabnam sharaab ho jati

patti patti gulaab kya hogi har kali mehar-e-khaab kya hogi
jisne lakhon hasi dekhe ho, uski niyat kharab kya hogi

la pila de saakiya
la pila de saakiya
paimana paimane ke baad
hosh ki baatein karunga
hosh ki baatein karunga
hosh me aane ke baad
la pila de saakiya

dil mera lene ki khaatir minnate kya kya na ki
dil mera lene ki khaatir minnate kya kya na ki
kaise najre pher li
kaise najre pher li
matlab nikal jaane ke baad
la pila de saakiya
paimana paimane ke baad
la pila de saakiya

waqt sari zindagi me do hi gujare hai ktheen
waqt sari zindagi me do hi gujare hai ktheen
ek tere aane se pahele
ek tere aane se pahele
ek tere jaane ke baad
la pila de saakiya
paimana paimane ke baad
la pila de saakiya

surkh ruh hota hai insaan thokare khane ke baad
surkh ruh hota hai insaan thokare khane ke baad
rang laati hai heena
rang laati hai heena
patthar pe pis jaane ke baad
la pila de saakiya
paimana paimane ke baad
hosh ki baatein karunga
hosh me aane ke baad
la pila de saakiya
paimana paimane ke baad
la pila de saakiya
la pila de saakiya
la pila de saakiya

Each leaf would bloom, a rose unveiled,
Each bud, a dream the dawn exhales.
But your gaze, a hidden grace,
Else, the dew would taste like wine's embrace.

What rose could bloom from every leaf?
What dream could grace each bud's brief grief?
Whose eyes have seen a million fair,
Would their hearts remain beyond compare?

Pour, O Saki, pour the wine,
Glass on glass, a sacred sign.
I'll speak of reason's fragile art,
When sober senses restart.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine.

To steal my heart, you begged and plead,
What pleas, what vows, did you concede!
Then turned away, your purpose done,
Once the game was finally won.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine,
Glass on glass, a sacred sign.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine.

Two times in life, the hours fell,
When pain's cold grip did me compel:
Before you came, the world was bare,
And after you, beyond repair.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine,
Glass on glass, a sacred sign.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine.

The soul turns red, a fiery hue,
When battered by the world's harsh view.
The henna blooms, its color bright,
After the stone's crushing might.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine,
Glass on glass, a sacred sign.
I'll speak of reason's fragile art,
When sober senses restart.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine,
Glass on glass, a sacred sign.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine.
Pour, O Saki, pour the wine.