shokhiyo me ghola jaaye phulo kaa shabaab
usame phir milaayee jaaye thodee see sharaab
hoga yu nasha jo taiyyar woh pyaar hain

hasata huwa bachpan woh, bahaka huwa mausam hain
chhedo toh ek shola hain, chhulo toh bas shabnam hain
gaanv me mele me, raah me akele me
aata hain yaad baar baar, woh pyaar hain

rang me pighale sona, ang se yu ras chhalake
jaise baje dhun koyee raat me halke halke
dhup me chhanv me, jhumatee hawaao me
hardam kare jo intjaar, woh pyaar hain

yaad agar woh aaye aise kate tanahaayee
sune shahar me jaise bajane lage shahanaayee
aanaa ho jaana ho, kaisa bhee jamaana ho
utare kabhee naa jo khumaar, woh pyaar hain

In mirth, the blush of blossoms,
A youthful, vibrant grace,
To this, a touch of wine is poured,
A tender, sacred space.
The ecstasy that blooms from this,
A love we can embrace,
In mirth, the blush of blossoms,
A youthful, vibrant grace.

Like laughter of a child,
A season's wanton plea,
A spark, if you should dare provoke,
A dewdrop, soft to be.
In village square, in festival's gleam,
On paths where you may roam,
The thought that always comes to mind,
Is love that calls us home.
In mirth, the blush of blossoms,
A youthful, vibrant grace,
To this, a touch of wine is poured,
A tender, sacred space.
The ecstasy that blooms from this,
A love we can embrace,
In mirth, the blush of blossoms.

Gold melts within the hue,
From limbs a nectar streams,
Like melodies that softly play,
Within the night's deep dreams.
In sun's warm light, in shadows cool,
In breezes that caress,
The longing that forever stays,
Is love's sweet tenderness.
In mirth, the blush of blossoms,
A youthful, vibrant grace,
To this, a touch of wine is poured,
A tender, sacred space.
The ecstasy that blooms from this,
A love we can embrace.

When memory arrives,
How solitude takes hold,
In silent cities, music starts,
A tale the heart unfolds.
Through comings, goings, every age,
A rapture that endures,
That never fades away from us,
Is love that time secures.
In mirth, the blush of blossoms,
A youthful, vibrant grace,
To this, a touch of wine is poured,
A tender, sacred space.
The ecstasy that blooms from this,
A love we can embrace,
In mirth, the blush of blossoms.