ae momino suno ye kahani namaz ki
ae humpe farz bandagi banda nawazgi
ae momino suno ye kahani namaz ki
mulke arab me ek hasina ki tumhe sunau
karti thi apne rab ki ibadadat subha sham
usko namaz padne ka bachpan se shok tha
ek waqt ki namaz bhi karti na thi kaza
nanha sa ek lal tha uska gubad sa
gurbat me shikar karti thi wo beniyaz ka
masum bacha bhukh se rota jo bekarar
pani pila pila ke thapakti thi bar bar
gujre isi tarha jo musibat me tin sal
sohar ke dil me ultesafar ka hua khayal
sohar ki bat sunke wo majbur ho gayi
do dil ki ye zudai thi manjur ho gayi

biwi ko rota chhod ke jab ghar se wo chala
masum bacha bap se apne lipat gaya
samjha ke ma ne god me bache ko le liya
wo chup rahi to ashq ne hafis khuda kaha
nikala garib ghar se to garib watan hua
jangle ki taij dhup me aur bhukh me chala
nagah ek daku ki us par padi nazar
zalim ne mara zulm se ek tir taak kar
lagte hi tir dil pe wo chakra ke gir pada
make me tin waqt se duniya se chal basa
daku karib aaya use dekhne laga
bhai ko murda dekh ke wo tharthara gaya
roya lipat lipat ke birather ki lash se
dar phodta tha apni hi bhai ko mar ke

kahta tha roke haye ye kya maine kar diya
bhai ka khun apne hi daman me bhar diya
muh pitata hua wo sehar ki taraf chala
bhabhi ko apne kahne ko kurdard mazra
ae momino suno ye kahani namaz ki

Listen, believers, to the tale of prayer,
A sacred duty, a loving care.
Listen, believers, to the tale of prayer,
Of a beauty in Arabia's land, I swear.
She worshipped her Lord morning and night,
From childhood, prayer was her delight.
Never missing a single call to pray,
In her devotion, she'd find her way.
A tender son, like a shining pearl,
In poverty, her faith did unfurl.
When her innocent child cried, weak with need,
She’d offer water, her heart to feed.
Through hardship, three long years they bore,
Her husband’s heart yearned for a distant shore.
She was compelled, hearing his plea,
This parting of hearts, it had to be.

Leaving his weeping wife, he departed,
The child clung to his father, brokenhearted.
The mother consoled her son with gentle grace,
Silent tears became their embrace.
The poor man left his home, his homeland bare,
Through desert sun and hunger’s snare.
A robber's gaze fell, cruel and cold,
An arrow of injustice, a story to be told.
The arrow pierced his heart, he fell to the ground,
Leaving this world, the prayer times unbound.
The robber approached, his deed to see,
Shaking with horror at what he’d done, you’ll agree.
He wept, embracing his brother's form,
Tearing at his clothes, a raging storm.

He cried, "Oh, what have I done, what woe?"
Brother’s blood stained his soul below.
Beating his face, he turned to the town,
To tell his sister-in-law, his grief to drown.
Listen, believers, to the tale of prayer.