e musavvir tere hatho, ki balaye le lu
khub tasvir banai, mere bahalane ko
kuch aisi pyari shakl, mere dilruba ki hai
kuch aisi pyari shakl, mere dilruba ki hai
jo dekhta hai kahata hai, qudarat khuda ki hai

is sadagi ko kya hai, zarurat singar ki
is sadagi ko kya hai, zarurat singar ki

divani khud hai, us par javani bahar ki
javani bahar ki
dunia me dhum uske hi, naaz o ada ki hai
jo dekhta hai kahata hai, qudarat khuda ki hai

nazaro ke ek tir se, sansar ji uthe
zulfo ki chhav dal de, bimar ji uthe
haye bimar ji uthe
aanchal ke tar me thandak hawa ki hai
jo dekhta hai kahata hai qudarat khuda ki hai
jo dekhta hai kahata hai qudarat khuda ki hai
ha qudarat khuda ki hai, haye qudarat khuda ki hai

My painter, may I take your hands' woes,
For the beauty you've crafted, my solace, it bestows.
Such a beloved form, my heart's delight,
Such a beloved form, bathed in heavenly light.
Each beholder whispers, "God's own design!"

What need has she for adornment's fleeting grace?
What need has she for embellishment's embrace?
Madness itself blooms, with youth's spring's sweet face,
Youth's spring's sweet face.
The world echoes her elegance and art,
Each beholder whispers, "God's own heart!"

With a glance's arrow, the world finds new birth,
Her tresses' shadows, revive the earth.
Alas, revive the earth.
In her veil's threads, the cool wind's breath,
Each beholder whispers, "God's own death!"
Each beholder whispers, "God's own death!"
Oh, God's own death, oh, God's own death!