Hawawan

Bond of a lifetime, [Billo: a term of endearment for a beautiful girl, often implying light/hazel eyes]

I wish to forge these ties with you.

Ghazals of profound love, oh I

long to sing them only with you.

I have finally found my [Sajjan: soulmate/beloved],

And so, I offer my gratitude to the Almighty.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.

Every day I stand waiting on those very paths,

Yet you never even lift your gaze toward me.

I build palaces out of my poetic words,

But perhaps they aren't worthy enough for you.

This wretched heart refuses to back down,

No matter how much I try to reason with it.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.

Oh, my patience has worn thin, [Arriye: a term for a stubborn/beloved woman] [Ni: a gender-specific vocative used to address a woman directly]

Let us finally read the chapters of our love.

Listen to my heart, my [Heere: referring to the legendary beauty Heer; a term for a precious beloved]

Listen to my heart, my Heere, my Heere, oh my Heere.

O daughter of the beautiful heavens,

Why is it that you choose not to speak?

I write these verses for you, my fairy,

Why is it that you choose not to read them?

Come, let us become the light; I am lighting the lamps of truth.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.

Oh, I have surrendered to [Ishq Haqiki: meditative, mystical, and selfless spiritual devotion]

If I turn back now, I would be no better than the dead.

Sitting here beside you, O girl of my age,

I feel as if I exist and yet I don't.

[Nirvair Pannu: Self-reference to the song's artist/lyricist] will surely be heard,

By the one for whom I sing these songs.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.

You brush past me like the wandering winds,

And like the swirling dust, I rise in celebration of that touch.