Maye ni maye!
Mere geetaaN dy nainaN wich
BirhoN di rurak pawe
Adhi adhi rateeN uth
Rowan moye mitraaN nooN
Maaye sanooN neend na pawe
Bhen bhen , sugandiaN che
Banhaan phahe channani de
TaaN wi sadi pair na sawe
Kose kose sahaaN di
Main karaaN je takor maaye
sagoon sanooN khaan nooN pawe
Aape ni main balri
Main hale aap mataaN Jogi
Matt kehra ais nooN dawe?
Aakh soni maye ehnooN
Rowe bulh chath ke ni
Jag kitte sun na lawe!
Aakh soni khaa laye tak
HijraaN da pakya
likhaaN de ni puthare tawe
chat laye tareel looni
GhamaaN de gulab tooN ni
Kalje nooN Hosla rehwe
Kehrian sperian tooN
MangaaN kanj mel di main
Mel di koi kanj dawe
Kehra ehnaaN dumaaN dian
Lobhayan de duraaN utte
Wang khara jogian rehwe
Pere ni pere
Eh pyar aisi titli he
Jehri sada sool te behwe
Pyar aisa bhor he ni
Jehde kolon washna wi
LakhaaN kohaaN door hi rehwe
Pyar oh mehal he ni
Jehde che pakheruaaN de
Bahj kujh hor na rehwe
Pyar aisa aangnaaN he
Jehde che ni waslaaN da
Ratra na palang dehwe
Aakh maye, adhi adhi
RateeN moye mitraaN de
Uchi uchi naaN na lawe
Matte sade moyaaN pichoN
Jag eh shareekra ni
GeetaaN nooN wi chandra kehwe
Maye ni maye
Mere geetaaN de nainaaN wich
BirhoN di rurak pawe
Adhi adhi rateeN
Uth rowan moye mitraaN nooN
Maye sanooN neend na pawe
English Translation
Mother, o mother,
My songs are like eyes
That sting with the grains of separation.
In the middle of the night ,
They wake and weep for dead friends.
Mother, I cannot sleep.
Upon them I lay strips of moonlight
Soaked in perfume,
But the pain does not recede.
I foment them
With warm sighs,
Yet they turn on me ferociously.
I am still young,
And need guidance myself.
Who can advise him?
Mother, would you tell him,
To clench his lips when he weeps,
Or the world will hear him cry.
Tell him, mother, to swallow the bread
Of separation.
He is fated to mourn.
Tell him to lick the salty dew
On the roses of sorrow,
And stay strong.
Who are the snake handlers
From whom I can get another skin?
Give me a cover for myself.
How can I wait like a jogi
At the doorstep of these people
Greedy for gold?
Listen, o my pain,
Love is that butterfly
Which is pinned forever to a stake.
Love is that bee,
From whom desire,
Stays miles away.
Love is that palace
Where nothing lives
Except for the birds.
Love is that hearth
Where the colored bed of fulfillment,
Is never laid.
Mother, tell him not to
Call out the name of his dead friends
So loudly in the middle of the night.
When I am gone, I fear
That this malicious world,
Will say that my songs were evil.
Mother, o mother
My songs are like eyes
That sting with the grains of separation.
In the middle of the night ,
They wake and weep for dead friends.
Mother, I cannot sleep