kori kori gagar si jawani meri mange tere kuwain ka pani
kori kori gagar si jawani meri mange tere kuwain ka pani
bin panghat ke bin dori ke pyasi mar gari mar gayi main
kori kori gagar si jawani meri mange tere kuwe ka pani ha pani

chale jo pawan to udd jaye achara dhas gayi choli chad gaya ghagra
chale jo pawan to udd jaye achara dhas gayi choli chad gaya ghagra
darpan me jab dekha mujhda laz se bhar gayi bhar gayi main
kori kori gagar si jawani meri mange tere kuwe ka pani

ek to meri bali umariya upar se julmi teri najariya
ek to meri bali umariya upar se julmi teri najariya
aankh se aankh ladi tujhse to aap se dar gayi dar gayi main
kori kori gagar si jawani meri mange tere kuwain ka pani re pani

aisa rangila pehle na dekha pad gayi dil par pyar ki rekha
aisa rangila pehle na dekha pad gayi dil par pyar ki rekha
in ankhon me in baaton me ghir gayi ghir gayi main
kori kori gagar si jawani meri mange tere kuwe ka pani
bin panghat ke bin dori ke pyasi mar gari mar gayi main
kori kori gagar si jawani merimange tere kuwain ka pani ha pani
mange tere kuwain ka pani re pani

My youth, a virgin pitcher, thirsts
For the water of your well, it bursts.
My youth, a virgin pitcher, thirsts
For the water of your well.
Without a ghat, without a rope,
I die of thirst, I softly elope.
My youth, a virgin pitcher, thirsts
For the water of your well, oh, water.

When the wind blows, my veil takes flight,
My blouse sinks low, my skirt takes height.
When the wind blows, my veil takes flight,
My blouse sinks low, my skirt takes height.
In the mirror when I see my face,
With shame, I fill this sacred space.
My youth, a virgin pitcher, thirsts
For the water of your well.

My tender age, a fragile bloom,
And your gaze, a cruel, shadowed room.
My tender age, a fragile bloom,
And your gaze, a cruel, shadowed room.
When eyes met yours, love took its toll,
With fear, I lost my very soul.
My youth, a virgin pitcher, thirsts
For the water of your well, oh, water.

Such vibrant hues, a first embrace,
Love's line etched upon my face.
Such vibrant hues, a first embrace,
Love's line etched upon my face.
In these eyes, in these words you see,
Entrapped, enfolded, lost, in me.
My youth, a virgin pitcher, thirsts
For the water of your well.
Without a ghat, without a rope,
I die of thirst, I softly elope.
My youth, a virgin pitcher, thirsts
For the water of your well, oh, water.
For the water of your well, oh, water.