insaniyat hi sabse pahla dharam hai insan ka
insaniyat hi sabse pahla dharam hai insan ka
iske bad hi panna kholo geeta or kuran ka
insaniyat hi sabse pahla dharam hai insan ka
iske bad hi panna kholo geeta or kuran ka
insaniyat hi sabse pahla dharam hai insan ka

kaun sa garnth ye kahta hai ye tera hai ye mera hai
kaun sa garnth ye kahta hai ye tera hai ye mera hai
sab hi sant kahe ye dunia char dino ka dera hai
yahi char din jiyo pyar se kyu khatra ho jan ka
iske bad hi panna kholo geeta or kuran ka
insaniyat hi sabse pahla dharam hai insan ka

pyar hi hai insan ka majhab
har bhasha ka matlab pyar
pyar hi hai insan ka majhab
har bhasha ka matlab pyar
ram rahim isha or nanak
pyar ki beena ke hai tar
dharm ke nam pe jhagda karna
kam hai ye shaitan ka iske bad hi panna kholo
geeta or kuran ka insaniyat hi sabse pahla
dharam hai insan ka

jago warna dunia ka gulshan virana ho jayega
jago warna dunia ka gulshan virana ho jayega
maut ki jeet me har ek insan bematlab so jayega
kuch na rahega kuch na bachega
itne bade jahan ka iske bad hi panna kholo
geeta or kuran ka

Humanity, the dawn of every soul's creed,
Humanity, the dawn of every soul's creed,
Before scripture's page, where truths proceed,
Before the Gita's song, the Quran's seed,
Humanity, the dawn of every soul's creed.

Which sacred text proclaims, "This mine, that thine?"
Which sacred text proclaims, "This mine, that thine?"
Saints whisper, earth, a fleeting shrine,
Live these brief days with love, let dangers decline,
Why court the shadow, life's fragile design?
Before the Gita's song, the Quran's sign,
Humanity, the dawn of every soul's line.

Love is the heart's true faith, profound,
Love is the heart's true faith, profound,
Each tongue's translation, love's sacred sound,
Ram, Rahim, Jesus, Nanak crowned,
By love's sweet strings, their echoes bound.
To war in faith, a demon's ground.
Before the Gita's page, the Quran's bound,
Humanity, the soul's first, holy found.

Awake, or the world's garden will fade,
Awake, or the world's garden will fade,
In death's cold triumph, all will be swayed,
Each soul adrift, a phantom made,
Nothing will remain, in life's parade,
Across the vast expanse, a shadow laid.
Before the Gita's song, the Quran's cascade.