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Lyrics of Birha - राम भइले जोगिया लखन बैरगीयाँ
ram bhaile jogiya lakhan bairagiya
ki duno bhaiya ho gaile fakir
garwa me daar lihale tulsi ji ke malwa, hey
are duno bhaiya mangale ajodhiya me bhikh
sarson ke maar delas lahi ae bhai
ki bathua bigadle ba khet
ohi brindavanawa me pakali bairiya
ki radha tode dariya jhukay
aa ekohu bairiya radha todhu na pawali, ki hey
are kanha dihale basiyan nu re bajay
sarson ke maar delas lahi ae bhai
ki bathua bigadle ba
are beta ke patahu bigadle ba, ki he
are koliya me kholole bate ho duar
demons in my dreams at night
working my mind like a scythe
filling up my thoughts with dread
working this land until i am dead
i got a devil in me filin
sending shivers down my spine
shaking my soul to a grind
making me run, i’m outta time
i bin running like there is coming a war
sliding down with my cheap guitar
from bombay to zanzibar
dont think i am getting very far
hurawa baran tor jurwa patarki
ki munari baran karhi haye
are akhiya me dele ba julmi kajarwa, ki hey
are maare chhaiyalawan ke jaike jaan
sarson ke maar delas lahi ae bhai
ki bathua bigadle ba khet
beta ke patahu bigaadle ba, ki hey
are koliya me kholole bate ho duar
i lift my hands to bring to life
this land of mine in time
of strife work to make two end mit
and fil the soil beneath my fit
i am working my fingers to the bone
this land is hard as dry as stone
but i will be slaving till i am done
oh lord please don’t leave me alone
Poetic Translation - Lyrics of Birha
When Rama donned the yogi's guise, Lakshman, a renunciate,
Two brothers, they became mendicants.
A garland of Tulsi, around their necks they bore,
Begging for alms in Ayodhya's shore.
Mustard, it smothers the flax, O brother,
And the field of bathua is spoiled.
In that very Vrindavan, a berry ripened,
Radha, bending, sought to pluck it.
And not a single berry Radha could seize,
As Krishna played his flute.
Mustard, it smothers the flax, O brother,
And the bathua is spoiled.
A son's daughter has gone astray,
And the door to the heart stands open.
Demons in dreams at night,
Wielding a scythe on my mind.
Filling my thoughts with dread,
Working this land until I am dead.
I’ve got a devil inside of me feeling,
Sending shivers down my spine,
Shaking my soul to a grind,
Making me run, I’m out of time.
I’ve been running like there is coming a war,
Sliding down with my cheap guitar,
From Bombay to Zanzibar,
Don’t think I'm getting very far.
Her complexion, like a mirror, a tender maiden,
Whose heart is filled with lament.
Cruel kohl in her eyes,
It slays the youth who come to her.
Mustard, it smothers the flax, O brother,
And the field of bathua is spoiled.
A son's daughter has gone astray,
And the door to the heart stands open.
I lift my hands to bring to life,
This land of mine in time.
Of strife, I work to make ends meet,
And feel the soil beneath my feet.
I may work my fingers to the bone,
This land is hard as dry as stone,
But I will be slaving 'til I am done,
Oh Lord, please don't leave me alone.
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.
