suno suno he nar nari ye katha purani hai
ye katha purani hai ye katha purani hai

janak raj ki beti pyari hui swayamvar ki tyari
ek dhanush aayega bhari ek dhanush aayega bhari
jo bhi uski dor chadaye
wohi siya ka piya usi ki sita rani hai
usi ki sita rani hai ye katha purani hai

desh desh ke raja aaye besh banaye
rawan aaya rawan aaya use dekh raja ghabraye

ram lakshman rajkuwar matwale
kuwar matwale kuwar matwale
viswamitra guru bhi aaye dadhiwale
dekh dekhkar hasta hai rawan abhimani hai
rawan abhimani hai ye katha purani hai

hath liye jaimala sita aayi sita aayi
papi rawan ki aankhe lalchahi aakhe lalchai
sita ne tab charo aur najar daudayi
najar daudayi ha najar daudayi
ram chandra ki chat naino me chayi
naino me chayi ha naino me chayi

siya sochkar mann hi mann akulayi
komal tan hai ram aur parwat si dhanush uthani hai
komal tan hai ram aur parwat si dhanush uthani hai
uthani hai uthani hai
chali hai janki sita magan hai nayan sharmate hai
aasman se phul baraste nar nari muskurate hai
ram chandra ko sita rani ne pahanai jai mala
jai mala ho jai mala
ye do hridyo ke madhur milan ki amar kahani hai
ye katha purani hai ye katha purani hai

Hark, mortals, lend an ear, this tale, it knows no age,
This ancient song, this ancient page.
A king's fair daughter, destined, sought a groom,
A swayamvara, dispelling gloom.
A bow, a titan's strength, will grace the hall,
Whose hand shall bend it, claim her all.
Sita's hand in marriage, so the decree,
Sita’s Queen, so she shall be.

From lands afar, the princes came, their guises grand,
Even Ravana, shadowed, in the land.
Each king, at his dark visage, faltered, swayed,
Then Rama and Lakshmana, strong, unafraid.
And Vishwamitra, the guru, wise and old,
With beard of time, a story to be told.
Ravana, arrogant, his laughter rings,
Ravana's pride, on evil wings.

With garland held, Sita, fair and bright,
Before her, Ravana, drunk with lust, with sight.
Sita’s gaze, sweeping the throng, so deep,
Her gaze, the secrets it would keep.
Then Rama's form, in her eyes did gleam,
Rama, her heart’s forever dream.

Sita’s thought, a tremor of doubt,
A tender form, and a mountain of a bow.
And Sita walked, the heart alight,
Her eyes did dance with sweet delight.
From heavens' grace, the flowers fell,
As mortals cheered, a joyful spell.
Sita, Rama’s Queen, placed the garland’s hold,
A garland of love, of beauty bold.
This union sweet, of hearts entwined,
An immortal tale, for all mankind.