ek hsina chali sadak pe
are ek hsina chali sadak pe
pichhe sau divaane
kis kis se wo anakh milaye
aur kisko pehchane
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me

are nazar mile to uske tevra
aasma ko chhute
dar lagata hain pad na jaye
kahi yaha pe jute
are ishq vahi kar sakta
jisko kaun hain kaun
are ishq wahi kar sakta
jisko baaju ho ajmane
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me

are saj dhaj ke jab husn chale to
are saj dhaj ke jab husn chale to
ladke siti bajaye
ulti sidhi dukhbandhi se
geet filam ke gaye
are saj dhaj ke jab husn chale to
ladke siti bajaye
ulti sidhi dukhbandhi se
geet filam ke gaye
are apni bhansha bhul ke padhte, kya kya
are apni bhansha bhul ke padhte
inglish ke afsaane
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me

ek hsina are chali sadak pe
hoy are ek hsina chali sadak pe
pichhe sau divaane
kis kis se wo anakh milaye
aur kisko pehchane
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me
ki ham kis ginti me, lage hain vinti me

A beauty walks the road,
Ah, a beauty walks the road,
A hundred hearts ablaze behind,
Whose gaze to meet, to whom be kind?
In what count are we, in what plea?
In what count are we, in what plea?

If eyes should meet, her pride takes flight,
Reaching, touching the heavens' height,
Fear grips, lest a stumble falls,
Lest anger within her heart calls.
True love's a game for those who know,
Who is who, where seeds of passion sow.
For love's a game, you must dare to play,
To test your strength in every way.
In what count are we, in what plea?
In what count are we, in what plea?

When beauty blooms, in finery dressed,
Ah, when beauty blooms, in finery dressed,
Young men's whistles fill the air,
Singing songs of love and despair,
When beauty blooms, in finery dressed,
Young men's whistles fill the air,
Twisted words, from silver screen,
Their hearts a silent, desperate scene.
Forgetting tongues, they try to speak,
Forgetting tongues, the tales they seek,
In English tales, their hearts now dwell,
In English tales, their spirits fell.
In what count are we, in what plea?
In what count are we, in what plea?

A beauty, ah, walks the road,
Oh, a beauty walks the road,
A hundred hearts ablaze behind,
Whose gaze to meet, to whom be kind?
In what count are we, in what plea?
In what count are we, in what plea?