khubsurat hai rangat gulabi hai
mere saiya me kitni kharabi hai
wo sharabi sharabi sharabi hai
sharabi hai khubsurat hai
khubsurat hai rangat gulabi hai
mere saiya me kitni kharabi hai
wo sharabi sharabi sharabi hai
sharabi hai khubsurat hai

roz kehta hai milne ko milta nahi
shaam ko yaad rehta hai wada kahi
roz kehta hai milne ko milta nahi
shaam ko yaad rehta hai wada kahi
nahi aayi abhi tak koi aisi raat
nahi aayi abhi tak koi aisi raat
jab ye botal nigodi na ho uske sath
baate shahana baate shahana aadat nawabi hai
mere saiya me kitni kharabi hai
wo sharabi sharabi sharabi hai
sharabi hai khubsurat hai

usko pine se roko to ladta hai wo
jitna samjhao utna bigadta hai wo
usko pine se roko to ladta hai wo
jitna samjhao utna bigadta hai wo
jane kisne banayi ye papan sharab
jane kisne banayi ye papan sharab
kar diya mere saiya ko jisne kharab
nargi si aankhe
nargi si aankhe chehra kitabi hai
mere saiya me kitni kharabi hai
wo sharabi sharabi sharabi hai
sharabi hai khubsurat hai
khubsurat hai rangat gulabi hai
mere saiya me kitni kharabi hai
wo sharabi sharabi sharabi hai
sharabi hai khubsurat hai

His beauty, a blush of rose, it seems,
Yet flaws bloom in my beloved's dreams.
He is a drunkard, a drunkard, thrice told,
A drunkard he is, though beauty he holds.
His beauty, a blush of rose, it seems,
Yet flaws bloom in my beloved's dreams.
He is a drunkard, a drunkard, thrice told,
A drunkard he is, though beauty he holds.

Each day, he vows to meet, but fades away,
The evening finds his promises astray.
Each day, he vows to meet, but fades away,
The evening finds his promises astray.
No night has dawned, a truth I now see,
No night has dawned, for him, to be free,
From the cursed bottle's hold, eternally.
His words, a king's, his habits, a prince's decree,
Yet flaws bloom in my beloved's decree.
He is a drunkard, a drunkard, thrice told,
A drunkard he is, though beauty he holds.

To stop the drink, he rages, it's true,
The more I plead, the worse he then grew.
To stop the drink, he rages, it's true,
The more I plead, the worse he then grew.
Who brewed this poison, this wretched brew?
Who brewed this poison, and saw it through?
That ruined my love, and made him untrue.
His eyes like narcissus, his face like a book,
Yet flaws bloom in my beloved's look.
He is a drunkard, a drunkard, thrice told,
A drunkard he is, though beauty he holds.
His beauty, a blush of rose, it seems,
Yet flaws bloom in my beloved's dreams.
He is a drunkard, a drunkard, thrice told,
A drunkard he is, though beauty he holds.