saari rat aahe bharta pal pal yaado me marta
mane na meri man mera
thode thode hosh madhoshi si hai nind behoshi si hai
jane kuchh bhi na man mera
kabhi mera tha par ab begana hai ye diwana diwana samjhe na
kabhi chup chup rahe kabhi gaya ye kare
bin puchhe teri tarife sunaya ye kare
hai koi hakikat tu ya koi fasana hai
kuchh jane agar to itna ke ye tera diwana hai
re man mera mane na man mera

rag rag wo samaya mere dil par wo chhaya mera
mujh me wo aise jaise jaan gire barsat me pani jaise
koi kahani jaise dil se ho dil tak jo baiya
aashik dil tera purana hai ye diwana diwana samjhe naa
kabhi chup chup rahe kabhi gaya ye kare
bin puchhe teri tarife sunaya ye kare
hai koi hakikat tu ya koi fasana hai
kuchh jane agar to itna ke ye tera diwana hai
re man mera mane na man mera

tujhko jo dekhe ye mujhko leke bas tere piche piche bhage
tera junu hai tu hi suku hai tujhse hi bandhe dil ke dhage
kabhi chup chup rahe kabhi gaya ye kare
bin puchhe teri tarife sunaya ye kare
hai koi hakikat tu ya koi fasana hai
kuchh jane agar to itna ke ye tera diwana hai
re man mera mane na man mera

All night, sighs I breathe, in memories I wither,
My heart, it won't listen, my heart.
A touch of awareness, a daze's embrace, sleep's sweet absence,
My heart, it knows nothing, my heart.
Once mine, now estranged, this madman, this madman, it doesn't understand.

Sometimes silent, sometimes singing,
Unbidden, your praises it's ever relaying.
Are you a truth, or a myth's soft weaving?
If it knows aught, this: it's your devotee, believing.
Oh, my heart, it won't listen, my heart.

In every vein, he's found his dwelling, upon my heart, his shadow falling,
Within me, he's nestled, like life in each breath, rain in the showers that are pelting,
Like a tale's soft telling, from heart to heart's dwelling.
Your lover's heart, forever young, this madman, this madman, it doesn't understand.

Sometimes silent, sometimes singing,
Unbidden, your praises it's ever relaying.
Are you a truth, or a myth's soft weaving?
If it knows aught, this: it's your devotee, believing.
Oh, my heart, it won't listen, my heart.

Seeing you, it pulls me, chasing after you, ever yearning,
Your passion it is, your love my peace, from you my heart's threads are turning.
Sometimes silent, sometimes singing,
Unbidden, your praises it's ever relaying.
Are you a truth, or a myth's soft weaving?
If it knows aught, this: it's your devotee, believing.
Oh, my heart, it won't listen, my heart.