baharo ne kiye sajde phulo ne sar jhukaya hai
baharo ne kiye sajde phulo ne sar jhukaya hai
badi fursat se malik ne hansi tumko bnaya hai
baharo ne kiye sajde

tere galo ki surkhi ko churane ko gulab aaye
tera nazuk badan jiski bala lene shabab aaye
wo gore hath jisme sangemarmar ki saphedi hai
ghata sawan ki zulfo me teri aaram karti hai
hasina o hasina hasina o hasina
baharo ne kiye sajde phulo ne sar jhukaya hai
badi fursat se malik ne hansi tumko bnaya hai
baharo ne kiye sajde

tera chehara zami ka chand bankar jagmgaya hai
magar kyu chandani ko apne ghunghat me chhupaya hai
wo aankhe aisi hai jaise gazal ke pahle do misre
teri masumiyat par baithe hai andaz ke pehare
hasina o hasina hasina o hasina
baharo ne kiye sajde phulo ne sar jhukaya hai
badi fursat se malik ne hansi tumko bnaya hai
baharo ne kiye sajde

pharisto ki bhi tauba tod de ye teri angdayi
teri katil jawani ban gayi phulo ki ruswai
wo teri chal jiska khud kayamat bhi pata puchhe
teri katil adaye bhaye jisko kab khuda puchhe
hasina o hasina hasina o hasina
baharo ne kiye sajde phulo ne sar jhukaya hai
baharo ne kiye sajde phulo ne sar jhukaya hai
badi fursat se malik ne hansi tumko bnaya hai
baharo ne kiye sajde

The springs have bowed, the blossoms knelt in grace,
The springs have bowed, the blossoms knelt in grace,
With leisure vast, the Maker shaped your face,
The springs have bowed.

To steal the blush that paints your cheek, the roses came,
To seize your form, youth, burning like a flame,
Those hands, so white, like marble's gentle sheen,
Where monsoon clouds in tresses soft convene,
O beauty, O beauty, O beauty divine!
The springs have bowed, the blossoms knelt in grace,
With leisure vast, the Maker shaped your face,
The springs have bowed.

Your face, a moon that graces earthly night,
Why hide its glow, veiled from the searching light?
Two eyes, like verses, first of a gazal's art,
Upon your innocence, the guards of charm impart,
O beauty, O beauty, O beauty divine!
The springs have bowed, the blossoms knelt in grace,
With leisure vast, the Maker shaped your face,
The springs have bowed.

Your languid grace, the angels would forsake their vows,
Your killer youth, shames the floral boughs,
That walk, where doomsday seeks to find its way,
Your killer moves, who would ask God to stay?
O beauty, O beauty, O beauty divine!
The springs have bowed, the blossoms knelt in grace,
The springs have bowed, the blossoms knelt in grace,
With leisure vast, the Maker shaped your face,
The springs have bowed.