o ranna wale khan parothe hay te chadiya di aag na bale
hoy balle balle balle balle balle
teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
are teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
biwiyo wale khaye parothe haye biwiyo wale khay
prothe aag na jale kawaro ki
are teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki

are yaro bana do hamko bhi dulha
yaro bana do hamko bhi dulha
apne bhi ghar mei jal jaye chulha
apne bhi ghar mei jal jaye chulha
deta hai taane bister hamara
are deta hai taane bister hamara
deta hai taane bister hamara
biwi bina hai mushkil gujara koi dva karo
koi dua halat hai buri bimaro ki
hoy teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
hoy teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki

haay jab tang karti hai ye jawani
are jab tang karti hai ye jawani
so jate hai pikar thanda pani
so jate hai pikar thanda pani
dushman hua ye ambar hamara
jane kab aaye number hamara
jane kab aaye number hamara
kab hogi shadi khan babaji hum beghar banjaro ki
are teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
hoy teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki

humko bithao ghodo pe sathi
are humko bithao ghodo pe sathi
piche chalo tum banke barati
piche chalo tum banke barati
are le aaye chalke dulhan ki doli
le aaye chalke dulhan ki doli
khatiya pe khele aankh micholi
khatiya pe khele aankh micholi
log maje le aise kare hum surat dekho yaro ki
teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
hoy teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
biwiyo wale khaye parothe haye biwiyo wale khay
prothe aag na jale kawaro ki
teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki
teri nahi meri nahi fariyad hai ye hajaro ki

Oh, those with wives, their parathas they devour,
While single flames within them never flower.
A chorus rises, not of your plight, not mine,
But echoes of a thousand hearts that pine.
Not yours, not mine, this plea of countless souls,
Those with wives feast, while the bachelor's ember cools.
A chorus rises, not of your plight, not mine,
But echoes of a thousand hearts that pine.

Friends, make us grooms, we beg and yearn,
That in our homes, the hearth might brightly burn.
Our beds give taunts, a constant, nagging sting,
Without a wife, how hard for life to swing.
Without a wife, how hard to make our way,
A desperate prayer, a plea for night and day.
Oh, heal us now, our sickness to abate,
A chorus rises, not of your plight, not mine,
But echoes of a thousand hearts that pine.

When youth's desire begins to fiercely burn,
We drink cold water, where our passions turn.
The sky itself, a foe that blocks our way,
When will our turn arrive, we cannot say?
When will our turn arrive, we cannot know,
When will the wedding bell so gently flow?
When will the wedding bell so gently chime,
For we're homeless gypsies, lost to space and time?
A chorus rises, not of your plight, not mine,
But echoes of a thousand hearts that pine.

Place us on steeds, companions, take your stand,
And follow us, a joyous wedding band.
We'll bring the bride, her palanquin in tow,
On the marriage bed, playful games we'll know.
On the marriage bed, playful games we'll find,
While others watch, and leave our souls behind.
They watch and jeer, with curious gaze,
A chorus rises, not of your plight, not mine,
But echoes of a thousand hearts that pine.
Those with wives feast, while the bachelor's ember cools.
A chorus rises, not of your plight, not mine,
But echoes of a thousand hearts that pine.