ber le lo ber meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka
meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka
ye khtte khtte bhi hai ye mithe mithe bhi hai
are inme maza hai kai rat ka
meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka

kacha bhi kam hai pakka bhi kam
ek to bada size ek to thode dam ka
kacha bhi kam hai pakka bhi kam
ek to bada size ek to thode dam ka
mal yaha rakh pyare ise dekh nahi chakh pyare
jhijhak na o raja le le jhijhak na
ber le lo ber meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka
meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka

sat paise mol kahu itne bade ber ka
le le mere shab yaha kam nahi der ka
sat paise mol kahu itne bade ber ka
le le mere shab yaha kam nahi der ka
tu jo le to sat paisa are mai jo du to ath paisa
khiskana ho babu dhire dhire khiskana
ber le lo ber meva garibo kao tere mere nasibo ka
meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka

rakh mere ber are tu to bada tez hai
aise le chala hai jaise joru ka dahej hai
rakh mere ber are tu to bada tez hai
aise le chala hai jaise joru ka dahej hai
aage se hat ja re mar dungi palat ja re
khiskana ho yu hi khali pili chipkana
ber le lo ber meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka
meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka
ye khtte khtte bhi hai ye mithe mithe bhi hai
are inme maza hai kai rat ka
meva garibo ka o tere mere nasibo ka

Berries, take the berries, the poor man's fruit, of your and my fate,
The poor man's fruit, of your and my fate.
They bloom and bloom, and bloom and bloom,
Oh, what joy they hold of the night!
The poor man's fruit, of your and my fate.

Unripe, they are less, ripe, they are less,
One, so grand in size, the other, with little might.
Unripe, they are less, ripe, they are less,
One, so grand in size, the other, with little might.
Keep the goods here, dear, look, don't taste, dear,
Don't waver, oh king, take, don't waver.
Berries, take the berries, the poor man's fruit, of your and my fate,
The poor man's fruit, of your and my fate.

Seven paisa, I say, the price of such a large berry,
Take, my lord, here is no time for delay.
Seven paisa, I say, the price of such a large berry,
Take, my lord, here is no time for delay.
You take for seven, oh, I give for eight,
Move along, Babu, slowly move along.
Berries, take the berries, the poor man's fruit, of your and my fate,
The poor man's fruit, of your and my fate.

Keep my berries, oh, you are so quick,
You take them as if they are your wife's dowry.
Keep my berries, oh, you are so quick,
You take them as if they are your wife's dowry.
Move aside, or I'll strike, turn back!
Move along, just like this, clinging uselessly.
Berries, take the berries, the poor man's fruit, of your and my fate,
The poor man's fruit, of your and my fate.
They are sour and sour, they are sweet and sweet,
Oh, what joy they hold of many a night!
The poor man's fruit, of your and my fate.