raam kare babua ho
raam kare babua hmaar fulva ko hamri umar lagi jaaye
raam kare babua hmaar fulva ko hamri umar lagi jaaye
patajhar aaye ho patajhar aaye basant
ritu jaaye ho jaaye champa chameli muskaaye
raam kare babua ho

pyaare munne tu bhi ek dil khush gulaab hai
tohri khushbu ka kahi koi javaab hai
pyaare munne tu bhi ek dil khush gulaab hai
tohri khushbu ka kaheen koi javaab hai
tohe na kisi ki tohe na kisi ki najar lagi jaaye
raam kare babua ho
raam kare babua hmaar fulva ko hamri umar lagi jaaye

bol siyaavar ramachandra ki jay
pavan put hanumaan ki jay
raam ji ne duniya mein dukh sukh baante
fulava ke sang sang bagiya mein kaante
raam ji ne duniya mein dukh sukh baante
fulava ke sang sang bagiya mein kaante
tore pag mein na koi tore pag mein na koi kaanta lagi jaaye
raam kare babua ho
raam kare babua hmaar fulva ko hamri umar lagi jaaye

kaas aisa hove jab bane tu dulha raaja
galiyon mein baaje jab saadi ka baaja
kaas aisa hove jab bane tu dulha raaja
galiyon mein baaje jab saadi ka baaja
yahi ganga raam hau
yahi ganga raam tohra sehara banaye
raam kare babua
raam kare babua hmaar fulva ko hamri umar lagi jaaye
patajhar aaye basant
ritu jaaye ho jaaye champa chameli muskaaye
raam kare babua ho

May Ram bless, O my son,
May my flower inherit my years.
May Ram bless, O my son,
May my flower inherit my years.
Though autumn descends, though spring departs,
Seasons may shift, but champak and jasmine bloom,
May Ram bless, O my son.

My sweet one, you are a rose of joy,
A fragrance unmatched, beyond compare.
My sweet one, you are a rose of joy,
A fragrance unmatched, beyond compare.
May no evil eye, may no harm touch you,
May Ram bless, O my son.
May Ram bless, O my son,
May my flower inherit my years.

Praise to Rama, the one of the lineage of Raghu!
Praise to Hanuman, son of the wind!
Rama dispensed joy and sorrow in this world,
With the flower, thorns in the garden entwined.
Rama dispensed joy and sorrow in this world,
With the flower, thorns in the garden entwined.
May no thorn pierce, may no pain touch your feet,
May Ram bless, O my son.
May Ram bless, O my son,
May my flower inherit my years.

If only it were so, when you become a king, a groom,
When wedding music fills the streets.
If only it were so, when you become a king, a groom,
When wedding music fills the streets.
This Ganga, Rama's own,
This Ganga will weave your wedding garland.
May Ram bless, O my son.
May Ram bless, O my son,
May my flower inherit my years.
Though autumn descends, though spring departs,
Seasons may shift, but champak and jasmine bloom,
May Ram bless, O my son.