ye aansu ye jajabat tum bechte ho, garibo ke halat
tum bechte ho amiro ki sham garibo ke nam
amiro ki sham garibo ke nam, amiro ki sham garibo ke nam
isi baat par sabko mera salam
amiro ki sham garibo ke nam, amiro ki sham garibo ke nam

ye kya hai tamasha ye kya hai sitam
ye kya hai tamasha ye kya hai sitam
maja aa gaya bas khuda ki kasam, khusi ki dukano pe bikta hai gum
bikta hai gum
fida aise gum pe hai khusiya tamam
amiro ki sham garibo ke nam, amiro ki sham garibo ke nam

ye fankar ki ek hasi yad hai, ye fankar ki ek hasi yad hai
kisi bhukhe nange ki fariyad hai, ye tasvir to kabile dad hai
kabile dad hai
ise dijiye ap pahla inam, ise dijiye ap pahla inam
amiro ki sham garibo ke nam, amiro ki sham garibo ke nam

ye masum bacha ye majbur maa, ye masum bacha ye majbur maa
na chulha na bartan na ghar na dhua
na chulha na bartan na ghar na dhua
garibi ki muh bolti dasta, amiro ka muh bolta intkam
amiro ki sham garibo ke nam, amiro ki sham garibo ke nam
isi bat par mera sab ko salam
amiro ki sham garibo ke nam, amiro ki sham garibo ke nam

These tears, these feelings, you auction off, the poor's plight, a harvest.
You sell the rich's evening, in the name of the poor.
The rich's evening, in the name of the poor, the rich's evening, in the name of the poor.
On this truth, my salutations to all.
The rich's evening, in the name of the poor, the rich's evening, in the name of the poor.

What spectacle is this? What cruelty? What spectacle is this? What cruelty?
I'm intoxicated, by God, I swear, joy's shop sells sorrow.
Sells sorrow.
Upon such sorrow, all joys are sacrificed.
The rich's evening, in the name of the poor, the rich's evening, in the name of the poor.

This is a memory of an artist's smile, a memory of an artist's smile.
It's the plea of a hungry, naked soul, this picture deserves praise.
Deserves praise.
Give it the first prize, give it the first prize.
The rich's evening, in the name of the poor, the rich's evening, in the name of the poor.

This innocent child, this helpless mother, this innocent child, this helpless mother.
No stove, no utensils, no home, no smoke.
No stove, no utensils, no home, no smoke.
Poverty's speaking tale, the rich's speaking revenge.
The rich's evening, in the name of the poor, the rich's evening, in the name of the poor.
On this truth, my salutations to all.
The rich's evening, in the name of the poor, the rich's evening, in the name of the poor.