GhamaaN Di Raat

Shiv Kumar Batalvi

GhamaaN Di Raat
GhamaaN Di Raat - The Night Of Sorrows

GhamaaN di raat lami e,
JaaN mere geet lame ne.
Na bhaeRi raat mukdi eh,
Na mere geet mukde ne.

Either this night of sorrows is long,
Or my songs are interminable.
This dreadful night does not end,
Nor do my songs cease.

Eh sar kine ku Doonge ne
Kis ne haath na paayi,
Na barsaataaN ‘ch chaRde ne
Te na auRaaN ‘ch sukhde ne.

How deep are these lakes?
No one has measured them.
But they do not swell up in the rains,
Nor dry up in drought.

Mere haD hi avale ne
Jo ahg laaeeyaaN nahi saRde
Ne saRde haukeyaaN de naal
HaavaaN naal dhukhde ne.

There is something wrong with my bones,
For fire does not burn them.
They are burnt by sighs,
They smolder with grief .

Eh phaT han ishk de
Ehna di yaaro ki dava hove,
Eh hath laaeeyaaN vi dukhde ne
Malham laaeeyaaN vi dukhde ne.

These are the injuries of love.
What cure, my friend, is possible?
A touch hurts.
A salve hurts.

Je gori raat hae chan di
Te kaali raat hae kisdi?
Na lukdae taareyaaN vich chan
Na taare chan ‘ch lukde ne.

If the fair night is the moon's,
To whom does a dark night belong?
The moon cannot be hidden among stars,
Nor can stars be concealed in the moon.

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GhamaaN Di Raat			GhamaaN Di Raat - The Night Of Sorrows
GhamaaN di raat lami e, JaaN mere geet lame ne. Na bhaeRi raat mukdi eh, Na mere geet mukde ne.			Either this night of sorrows is long, Or my songs are interminable. This dreadful night does not end, Nor do my songs cease.
Eh sar kine ku Doonge ne Kis ne haath na paayi, Na barsaataaN ‘ch chaRde ne Te na auRaaN ‘ch sukhde ne.			How deep are these lakes? No one has measured them. But they do not swell up in the rains, Nor dry up in drought.
Mere haD hi avale ne Jo ahg laaeeyaaN nahi saRde Ne saRde haukeyaaN de naal HaavaaN naal dhukhde ne.			There is something wrong with my bones, For fire does not burn them. They are burnt by sighs, They smolder with grief .
Eh phaT han ishk de Ehna di yaaro ki dava hove, Eh hath laaeeyaaN vi dukhde ne Malham laaeeyaaN vi dukhde ne.			These are the injuries of love. What cure, my friend, is possible? A touch hurts. A salve hurts.
Je gori raat hae chan di Te kaali raat hae kisdi? Na lukdae taareyaaN vich chan Na taare chan ‘ch lukde ne.			If the fair night is the moon's, To whom does a dark night belong? The moon cannot be hidden among stars, Nor can stars be concealed in the moon.
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