(Poem 9 of 18)

Dil Loche Maahi Yaar Nu

I long for my beloved.

One speaks, laughing in delight,
Another weeps, sobs, dies.
Tell the beautiful, blossoming springtime,
I long for my beloved.

My ablutions have gone to waste,
His heart is hard.
Might as well burn my jewels and adornments!
I long for my beloved.

I have driven messengers crazy,
Encased myself in sorrow.
Come home, dear one, let me see you.
I long for my beloved.

Says Bulla, when my lord comes home.
I will clasp him, my Ranjha, in a tight embrace!
All sorrows flown across the ocean.
I long for my beloved.

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