o ragarejavaa rag de aisi chunariyaa ke raga naa phikaa pade

pag pag pal laakho hi thag the tan ragane ki dhun me
sabase sab din bach nikalaa man par bach naa sakaa phaagun mem
to jag me ye tan ye meraa man rah naa sakaa bairaagi
kori kori chunari mori ho ga_i haay re daagi
ab jiyaa dhadake is chunari pe sabaki najariyaa gade

rag vo jis me ragi thi raadhaa ragi thi jis me miraa
usi rag me sab rag dube kah ga_e daas kabiraa
to nile pile laal saa badaragaa tu naa mujhe dikhalaa re
mai samajhaa du bhed tujhe ye tu naa mujhe samajhaa re
prem hai rag vo chadh jaa_e to rag naa dujaa chadhe

O dyer, dye this cloth, a hue unwavering,
Where fades no shade, no whisper of despair.

Each step, a thousand thieves, their eyes ablaze,
To stain the flesh, a fevered, fleeting phase.
From all the world, I fled, I found release,
But from the heart, in spring, there was no peace.
My body, world, my mind, a restless plea,
No longer free, my pristine cloth, you see.
Now, on this cloth, my heart, a captive caught,
The gaze of all, a wound that cannot be fought.

The dye that graced Radha, मीरा's soul to know,
In that same hue, let all our spirits flow,
Kabeer, the servant, sang the truth he found.
No blue, nor yellow, nor red, I'm bound
To colors, pale and flawed, a shallow art.
Let me reveal the secret of your heart.
Love is the dye, when it embraces all,
No other color dares to rise or fall.