Oh, the drum of Jagiro, the drum of Jagiro,
It beats its wild rhythm, as the people watch on,
The people watch, with wide-eyed wonder, the drum of Jagiro,
Standing tall, she strikes the beat, the drum sings on.
All together, they join in the Bhangra's embrace,
Whispering tales, of the girl who commands the drum's grace.
Watching the drum, the girls are amazed, they yearn to learn the drum,
Now, tell me friends, what fate awaits the men?
Oh, the drum of Jagiro, the drum of Jagiro,
It beats its wild rhythm, as the people watch on,
The people watch, with wide-eyed wonder, the drum of Jagiro.
Bale O Bale! She shines brighter than any fairy,
When she lays her hands upon the drum's skin.
She glances at the men, with a mischievous eye,
Playing her coy games, displaying her allure.
Her beauty spills forth, becoming the soul of Punjab,
As she sets the rhythm of the Bhangra's fire.
Oh, the drum of Jagiro, the drum of Jagiro, it beats its wild rhythm,
The people watch on, the people watch, with wide-eyed wonder,
Oh, the drum of Jagiro.
She dances, as she beats the drum's heart,
With hair like serpents, she stands so free,
Intoxicated by the wine of youth,
She casts her spell upon all, standing tall, a living thread,
Her spirit, Jagiro, touches the earth’s own ground.
Oh, the drum of Jagiro, the drum of Jagiro,
It beats its wild rhythm, as the people watch on,
The people watch, with wide-eyed wonder, the drum of Jagiro.
|
