o o
ae ji main to odh chunariya o
main to odh chunariya aayi hu mele me
o jo more baanke sanwariya
ho more baanke sanwariya
milna akele me

saas mori tyohar ke din bhi
haye gobar thapwaye
chakki chulha chauka bartan
aur handi ghiswaye
o ji mera ji ghabraye
o mera ji ghabraye
jhuthe jhmele me
ae ji main to odh chunariya aayi hu mele me

ik paise me bindiya kharidi
aur do paise me surma
ae ji pani puri khayi udhar
aur muft me khaya korma
o ji phir paan kharida
o phir paan kharida
khote adhele me
ae ji main to odh chunariya aayi hu mele me

motariya me kabhi na baithu
jiya mora ghabraye
tum tum me baithu to kamariya
sau sau bal kha jaye
o kamariya sau sau bal kha jaye
kamariya hoye hoye hoye hoye
sau sau bal kha jaye
ae ji main to sair karungi
o main to sair karungi
baith ke thele me
ae ji main to odh chunariya aayi hu mele me

O, O

Ah, I come veiled, in a crimson shawl,
I come veiled, to this festival's thrall.
Oh, for my dark-skinned beloved,
My dark-skinned beloved,
A meeting in secret, to call.

My mother-in-law, even on feast days,
Forces dung patties, in a haze.
The grinding stone, the hearth's smoke,
The pots and pans, the cleaning folk.
Oh, my heart it falters, it sways,
My heart it falters, always,
In this false, chaotic maze.
Ah, I come veiled, to this festival's gaze.

For a penny, a bindi I bought,
For two, kohl to my eyes was brought.
Watery puri, on credit I ate,
And a free taste of a rich, spiced meat.
Oh, then betel leaf I sought,
Oh, then betel leaf I sought,
For a worthless coin I fought.
Ah, I come veiled, to this festival's caught.

In motorcars, never I'll be,
My spirit trembles, uneasily.
In a carriage, my waist would bend,
A hundred curves, without end.
My waist, it twists and turns,
My waist, ah, a fire that burns!
My waist, ah, a fire that yearns!
Ah, I will wander, I will learn,
I will wander, and return,
Upon a cart, my soul to discern.
Ah, I come veiled, to this festival's turn.