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Lyrics of Bill Gates Ki Poti - बिल्स गेट्स की पोती
chun chun dard kare bauaa
dil pe kis ka joor chale bauaa
chun chun dard kare bauaa
dil pe kis ka joor chale bauaa
sab ke dil mein daude tatoo
chakar kaate jhoom ke latoo
sab ke dil mein daude tatoo
chakar kaate jhoom ke latoo
mare sathi milke sitti, mare sathi milke sitti
sek le na apni roti, khol de naada dhoti
oh nache oh nache oh nache o nache bill gates ki poti
oh nache oh nache oh nache o nache bill gates ki poti
matak matak ke gori naache angrej ki chhori
bheed ke sang iklauti naache
bheed ke sang iklauti
sarpanch khol ke pagadi naache
mukhiya phad ke dhoti
lachak lachak ke dhoti nache bill gates ki poti
makhaan ka jism hai chhura chala
aadha adhura nahi pura chala
makhaan ka jism hai chhura chala
aadha adhura nahi pura chala
sab ke dil mein daude tatoo
chakar kaate jhoom ke latoo
sab ke dil mein daude tatoo
chakar kaate jhoom ke latoo
mare sathi milke sitti, mare sathi milke sitti
sek le na apni roti, khol de naada dhoti
oh nache oh nache oh nache o nache bill gates ki poti
oh nache oh nache oh nache o nache bill gates ki poti
matak matak ke gori naache angrej ki chhori
bheed ke sang iklauti naache
bheed ke sang iklauti
sarpanch khol ke pagadi naache
mukhiya phad ke dhoti
lachak lachak ke dhoti nache bill gates ki poti
mann dole tera tan dole
tere dil ka gaya karaar re
main to bajaaun basuriya
main to bajaaun basuriya
mal mal se hotho ko chhule jara
pighali hai sabnam tu peele zara
botal ki hichaki hu chakhle zara
bhadki hai chingaari nachale aaja
sab ke dil mein daude tatoo
chakar kaate jhoom ke latoo
sab ke dil mein daude tatoo
chakar kaate jhoom ke latoo
mare sathi milke sitti, mare sathi milke sitti
sek le na apni roti, khol de naada dhoti
oh nache oh nache oh nache o nache bill gates ki poti
oh nache oh nache oh nache o nache bill gates ki poti
matak matak ke gori naache angrej ki chhori
bheed ke sang iklauti naache
bheed ke sang iklauti
sarpanch khol ke pagadi naache
mukhiya phad ke dhoti
lachak lachak ke dhoti nache bill gates ki poti
Poetic Translation - Lyrics of Bill Gates Ki Poti
Aching, aching, the heart laments, who commands its wildness now?
Aching, aching, the heart laments, who commands its wildness now?
In every heart, a pony races, a spinning top twirls in a dizzying chase.
Friends whistle a chorus, friends whistle a chorus,
Bake your bread, my friend, loosen your waistcloth,
Oh, she dances, she dances, she dances, Bill Gates' granddaughter sways.
With a sway and a strut, the fair maiden dances, an English rose in bloom.
Alone amidst the throng she dances, alone amidst the throng.
The village headman, unbinds his turban, the chieftain tears his cloth in glee.
With a flex and a sway, the waistcloth dances, Bill Gates' granddaughter sways.
Butter of a body, a blade that cuts, half a wound is not enough.
In every heart, a pony races, a spinning top twirls in a dizzying chase.
Friends whistle a chorus, friends whistle a chorus,
Bake your bread, my friend, loosen your waistcloth,
Oh, she dances, she dances, she dances, Bill Gates' granddaughter sways.
Oh, she dances, she dances, she dances, Bill Gates' granddaughter sways.
With a sway and a strut, the fair maiden dances, an English rose in bloom.
Alone amidst the throng she dances, alone amidst the throng.
The village headman, unbinds his turban, the chieftain tears his cloth in glee.
With a flex and a sway, the waistcloth dances, Bill Gates' granddaughter sways.
Your mind trembles, your body sways, your heart's peace is undone.
I will play my flute, I will play my flute.
Brush against my lips, softly now,
Melted dew, a taste you must borrow.
Hiccup of the bottle, take a fleeting swallow.
A spark ignites, come, dance with me.
In every heart, a pony races, a spinning top twirls in a dizzying chase.
Friends whistle a chorus, friends whistle a chorus,
Bake your bread, my friend, loosen your waistcloth,
Oh, she dances, she dances, she dances, Bill Gates' granddaughter sways.
With a sway and a strut, the fair maiden dances, an English rose in bloom.
Alone amidst the throng she dances, alone amidst the throng.
The village headman, unbinds his turban, the chieftain tears his cloth in glee.
With a flex and a sway, the waistcloth dances, Bill Gates' granddaughter sways.
This Poetic Translation, in English, has been provided mainly for those users who do not understand Hindi. This is a basic translation and could have minor mistakes. Thanks.
