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Lyrics of Sar Pe Hath Dale ( Topiwalleh) - सर पे हाथ डाले, डाले
sar pe haath daale, daale
khali pet mare o ho
sar pe haath dalae, daale
khali pet maare topiwale
chhup ke tu pair ko chu le
par apna pichhu smabhale
hatho ko tu jode, kharid le ghode
yahi to rajniti hain bhiaya
bole meri maiya
chhup ke tu pair ko chu le
par apna pichhu smabhale
yahi to rajniti hain bhiaya
bole meri maiya
hanste ko aur hansaaye
rote ko aur rulaye
pakade gaye to bole
na na na na na
sar pe haath daale, daale
khali pet mare o ho
sar pe haath dalae, daale
khali pet maare topiwale
hain mathe pe laal tika
khun wahi hain kala
dharm ke noto ko chhape
chipkaate hain jo dilo pe
niti ka maila ujaala
andha kiye saala
mathe pe laal tika
khun wahi hain kala
niti ka maila ujaala
andha kiye saala
dhandha ye jhanda, jhanda ka hain bantwara
khel wahi purana
sar pe haath daale, daale
khali pet mare o ho
sar pe haath dalae, daale
khali pet maare o ho
sar pe haath dalae, daale daale
khali pet maare maare topiwale
Poetic Translation - Lyrics of Sar Pe Hath Dale ( Topiwalleh)
They pat your head, a hollow touch,
Empty stomachs, they strike with such force.
They pat your head, a hollow show,
Empty stomachs, the hat-wearers go.
Crouch and touch their blessed feet,
But guard your rear, your fragile seat.
Fold your hands, and buy a steed,
This, my friend, is politics, indeed.
My mother speaks, you see,
Crouch and touch their blessed feet,
But guard your rear, your fragile seat.
This, my friend, is politics, indeed.
My mother speaks, you see.
They make the laughing laugh more loud,
They make the weeping weep in shroud.
If caught, they’ll cry, "No, no, no, no!"
They pat your head, a hollow touch,
Empty stomachs, they strike with such force.
They pat your head, a hollow show,
Empty stomachs, the hat-wearers go.
A red mark on the brow they place,
The blood, the same dark disgrace.
They print their faith on paper bright,
And stick it fast to hearts in plight.
The filth of policy, a blinding light,
That steals your sight, and fills you with blight.
A red mark on the brow they place,
The blood, the same dark disgrace.
The filth of policy, a blinding light,
That steals your sight, and fills you with blight.
This flag, a trade, a fractured prize,
The ancient game before our eyes.
They pat your head, a hollow touch,
Empty stomachs, they strike with such force.
They pat your head, a hollow show,
Empty stomachs, they strike with such force.
They pat your head, a hollow touch,
Empty stomachs, the hat-wearers go.
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.
