Piyaare Piyaare piyaare,
Nanhe taare,
Sooraj de pighale sone vich
Khabar naheeN kyuN DHalde,
Aapa CHalde!

MotiyaaN vargi,
Trael savargi,
Vaayu di nighi buhkal vich
Khabar naheeN kyuN lukdi,
AeveN mukdi.

LahiraaN vaali,
Nadi suchaali,
Khabar naheeN khaare saagar vich
Garak kyuN ho jaaNdi,
Aap gavaaNdi.

Maenu te je,
Rahb vi aakhe,
Aa mere chauRe-pan vich ral ja
Kadi na ralaaN,
Vakh hi khalaaN.

Rahb vich ral ke,
Aapa CHal ke,
Haaye! SakaaN ga maan kiveN maeN,
DuneeyaaN de nazaare,
Ras raNg saare.

Uh ki baNda,
ChaNga ya maNda,
Rakh na sake jo sabh duneeya toN
Vakhara apna aapa,
Kahl kalaapa.

I cannot understand why
The tiny,
Beautiful stars,
Fade into the molten gold of the sun,
They betray their Self.

I cannot understand why
The pearly,
Ethereal dew,
Creeps into the warm embrace of a breeze,
It annihilates its Self.

I cannot understand why
The pure,
Undulating river
Drowns itself in the briny ocean,
It loses its Self.

If God himself
Should say to me,
Come, mingle yourself in my immensity,
I would never do it.
I would stand apart.

Unite with God
And betray my Self!
Oh! how then could I pay homage to,
The beauty of life,
Its color, its sweetness.


What kind of a man could he be,
Good or bad,
Who cannot keep his Self
Separate from the world?
Apart. Alone.

Ik Ik booTa aMbi da,
Ghar saaDe lahga ni,
Jis thalle bahina ni,
SurgaaN vich rahina ni,
Ki usda kahina ni,
VehRe da gahina ni,
Par maahi baajoN ni,
Pardesi baajoN ni,
Ih maenu vaDHda e
Te khaTa lagda e.

Is booTe thalle je,
MaeN charkhi dhaani aaN,
Te ji parchaavan nu,
Do tandaaN paani aaN,
Koil deeyaaN kookaaN ni,
Maaran baNdookaaN ni,
PeehRe nu bhaNaaN maeN,
Charkhi nu phookaaN ni,
Phir Dardi bhaabo toN,
Le bahaaN kaseeda je –
YaadaaN vich Dubbi da,
Dil kidare juR jaave,
Te sooi kaside di
PoTe vich puR jaave.

Phir uTH ke peehRe toN,
MaeN bhuNje bahi jaavaaN,
Chichi dhar THoDi te,
Vahina vich vahi jaavaaN-
SukhaaN deeyaan gahlaaN ni,
MelaaN deeyaaN ghaRiyaaN ni,
KheeraaN te pooRe ni,
Saavan deeyaaN jhaRiyaaN ni,
Sohne de tarle ni,
Te mereeyaN aReeyaaN ni,
JaaN chete a jaavan
LohRa hi pa jaavan.


O kiha dihaaRa si?
O bhaagaaN vaala si,
O karmaaN vaala si,
Jis shubh dihaaRe ni,
Ghar mera laaRa si.
MaeN nhaati dhoti ni,
MaeN vaal vadhaae ni,
MaeN kajala paaiya ni,
MaeN gahine laae ni
Mal mal ke khoRi maeN
Heere lishkaae ni,
La la ke biNdiyaN maeN
Kai faNd banaae ni.
JaaN haar shiNgaaraaN toN
MaeN vihli hoi ni,
Aa aMbi thalle maeN,
Phir pooni CHohi ni.

O chaNd piyaara vi,
Aa baeTHa saahveN ni,
AMbi di CHaaveN ni.
O mereeyaaN preetaaN da
Sona vaNjaara ni.
Kihse pardesaaN de,
LaamaaN deeyaaN gahlaaN ni,
Ghumkaar jahaazaaN di,
Saagar deeyaaN CHalaaN ni,
Vaeri de hahle ni,
Sohne deeyaaN THallaaN ni,
O dahsi jaave te
MaeN bharaaN huNgaara ni.

Os gahlaaN karde nu –
PahtiyaaN di khaR khaR ne
BadalaaN di shookar ne,
VaNgaaN di CHan CHan ne,
Charkhi di ghookar ne,
TapeyaaN di lori ne,
Koyal di kookar ne,
MaNje te paa dita
Te ghook sula dita.

Tak suhta maahi ni,
Charkhi di charmakh toN
MaeN kaalakh laahi ni
Ja suhte sohne de,
Mathe te laai ni,
MaeN khul ke hahsi ni
MaeN taaRi laai ni,
MaeN doohri ho gayi ni,
MaeN chauhri ho gayi ni,
O uTH khaloya ni,
Ghabaraaya hoya ni
O biT biT tahke ni
MaeN khiR khiR hasaaN ni,
O muR muR puCHe ni,
MaeN gahl na dasaaN ni.

Tak sheesha charkhi da,
Us ghoori paayi ni,
MaeN chuNgi laayi ni,
O piCHe bhaja ni,
MaeN deyaaN na Daahi ni,
Us maan javaani da,
MaeN haTH zanaani da,
MaeN ahge ahge ni,
O piCHe piCHe ni,
MaNji te girde ni,
AMbi de girde ni,
Nhasde vi jaaiye ni,
Hasde vi jaaiye ni,
Ohdi chaadar khaRke ni,
Meri koTHi khaRke ni,
Uhdi juti cheeke ni,
Meri jhaaNjar CHaNke ni,
Ohdi pagRi dahi payi ni,
Meri chunni lahi payi ni,
JaaN habh ke rahi gayi ni,
Chup karke beh gaye ni.

O kiha dihaaRa si,
O bhaagaaN vaala si,
O karmaaN vaala si,
Jis shubh dihaaRe ni,
Ghar mera laaRa si,
Ahj khaan havaavaaN ni,
Ahj saaRan CHaavaaN ni,
Tarkhaan sadaavaaN ni,
AMbi kaTvaavaaN ni,
Toba maeN bhulli ni,
HaaRa maeN bhulli ni,
Je aMbi kaTaaN gi,
ChaRh kis de uhte,
Raah Dhole da takaaN gi.

Ik booTa aMbi da,
Ghar saaDe lahga ni,
Jis thalle bahina ni,
SurgaaN vich rahina ni,
Ki usda kahina ni,
VehRe da gahina ni,
Par maahi baajoN ni,
Pardesi baajoN ni,
Ih maenu vaDHda e,
Te khaTa lagda e.

A mango tree
Grows in our courtyard,
Sitting beneath it
Is like being in heaven.
What can I say about it?
It is the jewel of our courtyard.
But without my beloved,
Without the one who is far away,
It bites at me,
It is sour.

If I set up my spinning wheel
Beneath the tree,
And spin a few strands
To occupy myself,
The cries of the blackbird
Hit me like gunshot.
I feel like smashing the stringed stool,
I feel like burning the spinning wheel.
Then fearful of his mother,
If I pick up my embroidery -
I drown in memories,
My mind travels elsewhere,
And the needle
Pricks my finger.

I get up from the stool,
I sit on the ground,
My finger strays to my chin,
I float away
Into rambling thoughts
Of that happy time,
Of those moments when we were together,
Rice cream and sweetened bread,
Spring rains,
His entreaties,
My obstinacy,
When I remember it all,
I am filled with need.

What days were those?
Those days of good fortune
Those   blessed days,
Those auspicious days,
When my beloved was home.
I bathed myself,
I combed my hair,
I lined my eyes with kohl,
I put on my jewels,
I scrubbed my teeth
Till they shone like diamonds,
I tried various bindis ,
So many enticements.
When I finally completed
My dressing, my ornamentation,
I sat beneath the mango tree
And began to spin the cotton yarn.

My dearest moon
Came and sat beside me
Beneath the shade of the mango tree.
That beautiful thief
Of all my love.
Tales of foreign lands,
Stories of war,
Of ships that roamed the world
Of ocean waves,
The attacks of enemies,
And how he repulsed them,
He told   me these stories
And I listened, nodding.

As we talked,
The crackle of the leaves,
The lowering of the clouds,
The clink of my bangles,
The hum of the spinning wheel,
The soft, repeated sounds,
The call of the blackbird,
Laid him on the bed
And he drifted into sleep.

Watching him asleep,
I took a lick of soot
From the joint of the spinning wheel,
And put it on the forehead
Of my sleeping husband.
I burst out laughing,
I clapped my hands,
I doubled up
With laughter.
He awoke, startled,
Bewildered.
He gaped, staring,
I was laughing merrily.
He kept asking me what happened,
But I would not tell him.

He glanced at the mirror on the spinning wheel
And scowled,
I leapt away,
He leaped after me,
I could not let him catch me,
His pride in his youth,
My determination as a woman,
I ran,
He chased after me.
Around and around the bed we ran,
Around and around the mango tree,
We were running,
We were laughing,
His shawl flapped,
My chest heaved
His shoe shrieked,
My anklets tinkled.
His turban slipped off,
My chunni fell away,
Breathless, we stopped
And sat quietly on the bed.

What days were those?
Those days of good fortune
Those blessed days,
Those auspicious days,
When my beloved was home.
The winds bite at me today,
The shade of the tree burns me.
I will call for the woodcutter
To chop down the mango tree.
But   oh! What am I thinking!
If I cut down the mango tree,
Where will I wait
For the return of my beloved.

A mango tree
Grows in our courtyard
Sitting beneath it
Is being in heaven.
What can I say about it,
It is the jewel of our courtyard.
But without my beloved
Without the one who is far away,
It bites at me,
It is sour.

Uh kidhre gaye dihaaRe?
Jad CHato de piCHvaaRe,
SaaN ber CHato de DhaaNde,
Has has ke gaalaaN khaaNde.

Kar laage laage sireeyaaN,
Uh beri thale bahina,
ThoRi jihi ghur ghur magroN,
Fir ja CHato nu kahina,
‘CHeti kar bebe CHato,
Taenu sad’di bhooa Sato’.
Us jaana hauli hauli,
AsaaN kar ke furti Chuhli,
GaalahR vaaNgooN chaR jaana,
BeraaN da meeNh varaahna,
AapeeN taaN chun chun khaane,
CHuraaN nu dabke laane,
Bachu HarnaameyaaN kha lae,
SaNtu dabaaN vich paa lae!
Kha khu ke thale lahina,
Fir ban vartaave bahina.

Kujh vaND-karaai laeni,
Kujh kaNDe-chubhaai laeni,
Fir cheek chihaaRa paana,
UtoN CHato da aa jaana,
Us jhooTHi mooTHi kuTna,
AsaaN jhooTHi mooTHi rona,
Us dhaun asaaDi CHaDni,
AsaaN Tapke pare khalona.
Us gaalaaN deniyaaN khul ke,
AsaaN gaonaaN agoN ral ke,
‘CHato maai diyaaN gaalaaN,
Han dudh te ghyo diyaaN naalaaN’.

Ahj uye je koi aakhe,
AseeN hoeeye lohe laakhe,
Ahj saanu je koi ghoore,
AseeN chuk chuk paeeye hoore,
GaalaaN raheeyaaN ik paase,
AseeN jhal na sakiye haase.
Gal gal te bhajeeye thaane,
AseeN bhull baeTHe ’uh jaane’.

O kidhre gaye dihaaRe,
Jad CHato de piCHvaaRe,
SaaN ber CHato de DhaaNde,
Has has ke gaalaaN khaaNde.

Where have those days gone?
When we would go to the rear of CHato’s house,
And pull down her jujubes,
Laughing as she cursed us.

We would hover near the jujube tree,
Then gather beneath it.
After hurried whispering,
We would call out to CHato -
‘Hurry hurry, mother Chato
Aunty Sato is calling you”.
She would go, walking slowly.
Nimbly, quickly, like squirrels,
We would scamper up the tree,
And down would rain a shower of jujubes!
Ourselves, we ate the ripest ones,
Then commanded the younger boys -
Little Harnaam, eat them,
Santo, put them in boxes!
Having eaten our fill, we would clamber down
And sit down to distribute the remainder.

We would divide them into portions,
The thorns would prick our hands,
There would be yelling and shrieking,
Then CHato would return,
She would pretend to beat us,
We would pretend to cry,
She would try and get us by the neck,
We would jump away,
She would heap abuses upon us,
As we sang out together -
‘Mother CHato’s curses
Are like rivers of milk and butter!’

Today we would be enraged,
If someone said those words to us.
Today if someone scowls at us,
We are ready to raise our fists.
Never mind curses,
We cannot even tolerate laughter.
At little things we run the law,
We have forgotten how to ‘let it go’.

Where have those days gone?
When we would go to the rear of CHato’s house,
And pull down her jujubes,
Laughing as she cursed us.

De hava da jeevan saahnu,
Sada khoj vich raheeye.

Har dam talab sajan di kareeye,
ThaNDHe kadi na paeeye.
JaNgal gaaheeye, retaR vaaheeye,
Naal pahaaRaaN khaheeye.
Ikko saahe bhajde jaaeeye,
Kise paRa na laheeye.
Dekh mulaaim sej phulaaN di,
Dharna maar na baheeye.
Sau raNgaaN de vichoN laNgh ke
Phir vi beraNg raheeye.
Je koi bulbul haakaaN maare
Kan vich uNgalaN daeeye.
Je koi kaNDa palla pakaRe,
CHaDeeye te nhas paeeye.

De hava da jeevan saahnu,
Sada khoj vich raheeye.

Mere phul JhanaaN vich paane.

MaeN shaair mere phul suhaave,
Kadar ihna di koi aashiq paave,
GaNga baahmani ki jaane,
Mere phul JhanaaN vich paane.

RoohaaN Heer te Sohni deeyaaN
Phir JhanaaN de aNdar paeeyaaN,
Paer dohaaN de vaahne,
Mere phull JhanaaN vich paane.

Throw my ashes into the Chenaab.

I am a poet, my ashes are special,
Only a lover can know their worth.
Ganga, that Brahmin, she would not understand,
Throw my ashes into the Chenaab.

The souls of Heer and Sohni,
Wander in the Chenaab,
I must walk in their foorsteps,
Throw my ashes into the Chenaab.