parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e
dil na ban jaa_e
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e
jo mushkil ab hai yaarab phir wohi mushkil na ban jaa_e
parishaan parishaan parishaan parishaan
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e
parishaan parishaan
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e
jo mushkil ab hai yaarab phir wohi mushkil na ban jaa_e
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e

kabhi chhod i hui mazil bhi yaad aati hai raahi ko
khatak si hai khatak si hai jo sine me gam-e-mazil na ban jaa_e
khatak si hai jo sine me gam-e-mazil na ban jaa_e
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e

banaayaa ishq ne dariyaa-e-naa-paigaa-garaan mujhako
banaayaa ishq ne dariyaa-e-naa-paigaa-garaan mujhako
ye meri ye meri ye meri ye meri
banaayaa ishq ne dariyaa-e-naa-paigaa-garaan mujhako
ye meri khud nigahadaari ye meri khud nigahadaari
ye meri ye meri khud nigahadaari meraa saahil na ban jaa_e
ye meri khud nigahadaari meraa saahil na ban jaa_e
aruz-e-aadam-e-khaaki se ajum sahame jaate hai

aruz-e-aadam-e-khaaki se ajum sahame jaate hai
ke ye tutaa hu_aa taaraa mah-e-kaamil na ban jaa_e
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e
jo mushkil ab hai yaarab phir wohi mushkil na ban jaa_e
parishaan ho ke meri khaak aakhir dil na ban jaa_e

Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last,
Takes heart's form,
Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last,
That the trial now, O Lord, does not become the very trial that was passed.
Tormented, tormented, tormented, tormented,
Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last,
Tormented, tormented,
Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last,
That the trial now, O Lord, does not become the very trial that was passed.
Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last.

Sometimes the abandoned destination, the traveler remembers with a sting,
A sting that is a prick in the breast, lest it become the sorrow of the destination,
A sting that is a prick in the breast, lest it become the sorrow of the destination,
Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last.

Love has made me a sea, without message, without measure,
Love has made me a sea, without message, without measure,
This, my, this, my, this, my
Love has made me a sea, without message, without measure,
This, my own self-seeing, this, my own self-seeing,
This, my, this, my own self-seeing, lest it become my shore,
This, my own self-seeing, lest it become my shore,
Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last,
That the trial now, O Lord, does not become the very trial that was passed.
Perhaps my dust, in torment, takes heart's form at last.