marna bhi mohabbat me kisi kam na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya

kahate hai jise ishq qaayamat ki bala hai
shola hai kabhi aur kabhi bad-e-saba hai
ashko ka samadar hai to aho ka khazana
sunate chale aye azal se ye fasana
is qisse ka lekin kabhi ajam na aaya
is qisse ka lekin kabhi ajam na aaya
marna bhi mohabbat me kisi kam na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya

marne ki mohabbat me aaja aur hi kuchh hai
is zahar ke pine ka maza aur hi kuchh hai
marte hai to marne ki shikaayat nahi karate
dilawalo dikhane ki mohabbat nahi karate
ab tak to mohabbat me ye ilzam na aaya
ab tak to mohabbat me ye ilzam na aaya
marna bhi mohabbat me kisi kam na aaya
kisi kam na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya

hota na agar ishq to duniya bhi na hoti
jine ki kisi dil me tamanna bhi na hoti
bijali me chamak taro me ye nur na hota
laharo ko machalana kabhi mazur na hota
kya lutf jo hotho pe ye hi jam na aaya
kya lutf jo hotho pe ye hi jam na aaya
marna bhi mohabbat me kisi kam na aaya
kisi kam na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya
di jan magar de ke bhi aaram na aaya
marna bhi mohabbat me kisi kam na aaya

To die in love, proved futile in the end,
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.

They call it love, a torment, judgment's sting,
A flame that burns, then whispers on the wing.
An ocean of tears, a treasure trove of sighs,
This ancient tale, since time began, it lies.
But in this tale, no ending did descend,
But in this tale, no ending did descend.
To die in love, proved futile in the end,
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.

To die in love, unveils a different art,
The pleasure found in drinking from this dart.
When dying, lovers make no loud complaint,
Lovers of heart, no love for show they paint.
No accusation ever did transcend,
No accusation ever did transcend.
To die in love, proved futile in the end,
Futile in the end,
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.

If love were not, the world would cease to be,
No longing heart would yearn to truly see.
No spark in lightning, nor in stars a gleam,
The waves would still, and cease their restless dream.
What joy if on the lips, this cup to send?
What joy if on the lips, this cup to send?
To die in love, proved futile in the end,
Futile in the end,
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.
Gave life itself, yet found no peace to lend.
To die in love, proved futile in the end.