maniyaro te halu halu thai riyo
maro maniyaro te halu halu thai riyo
ne muj dalda udasin hoye re
chhel mujo pardeshee maniyaro
chhel mujo varanagee maniyaro

maniyaro re kalayel moralo re
maniyaro re maniyaro re kalayel moralo re
kai hun re dhalakatee dhel re
chhel mujo pardeshee maniyaro
chhel mujo varanagee maniyaro

punam nee pyaree pyaree rat naa jatee
he maree pritam sathe nee mulakat re
chhel mujo pardeshee maniyaro
chhel mujo varanagee maniyaro

o rang rasiya kyan rami avya ras jo
aa ankhaldi rati ne ujagaro kyare kidho
chhel mujo pardeshee maniyaro
chhel mujo varanagee maniyaro

aaj ame gyata doshida ne hat jo
aa chudaladi mulavata vhana wahee gya
chhel mujo pardeshee maniyaro
chhel mujo varanagee maniyaro

ame mahiyara re gokul gam naa
mare mahi vechvane java mahiyara re
chhel mujo pardeshee maniyaro
chhel mujo varanagee maniyaro

mathurani vate mahi vechavane jata
mare dan deva naa leva mahiyara re
chhel mujo pardeshee maniyaro
chhel mujo varanagee maniyaro

ame mahiyara re gokul gam naa
khamma mara nandjee naa lal, moralee kyare vagadee

hun re sutiti mara shayan bhavan ma
he sambhalyo me moralee no nad, moralee kyare vagadee

sambhalyo me moralee no nad, moralee kyare vagadee

Slowly, slowly, the heart wanders,
Slowly, slowly, the heart wanders.
And my soul weeps in detachment,
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

The heart, a river turned,
The heart, oh, the heart, a river turned.
What am I, a falling torrent?
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

The full moon, the beloved night, never departs,
With my beloved, in the time of meeting,
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

Oh, you, the lover of colors, where have you played the game of love?
When did you reveal the light within these eyes?
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

Today, we, the knowing, the guilty, withdraw,
These stolen meetings have vanished.
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

We, the milkmaids, are not of Gokul's village,
To sell milk, we, the milkmaids, must go.
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

On the road to Mathura, we go to sell milk,
To give and take offerings, we, the milkmaids, must go.
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

We, the milkmaids, are not of Gokul's village,
Homage to Nandaji's son,
When will the flute play again?
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

I was sleeping in my sleeping chamber,
And I heard the sound of the flute.
When will the flute play again?
Oh, my foreign heart,
Oh, my heart of yearning.

I heard the sound of the flute,
When will the flute play again?