mera kya tha tere hisaab me
mera saans saans udhaar tha
mera kya tha tere hisaab me
mera saans saans udhaar tha
jo gujar gaya wo to waqt tha
jo bacha raha wo hisaab tha
mera kya tha tere hisaab me
mera saans saans udhaar tha

teri aarju me ude to the
chand khushk patte chanaar ke
teri aarju me ude to the
chand khushk patte chanaar ke
jo hava ke dosh se gir pada
unme ek ye khaaksaar tha
jo gujar gaya wo to waqt tha
jo bacha raha wo hisaab tha
mera kya tha tere hisaab me
mera saans saans udhaar tha

wo udaas udaas ek shaam thi
ek chehara thi ek chirag tha
wo udaas udaas ek shaam thi
ek chehara thi ek chirag tha
aur kuchh nahi tha jamin par
ek aasmaan ka gubaar tha
jo gujar gaya wo to waqt tha
jo bacha raha wo hisaab tha
mera kya tha tere hisaab me
mera saans saans udhaar tha

bade sufiyaan se khayaal the
aur bayaan bhi uska kamaal tha
bade sufiyaan se khayaal the
aur bayaan bhi uska kamaal tha
kaha maine kab ki vahi tha wo
ek shaksh tha wadakhar tha
jo gujar gaya wo to waqt tha
jo bacha raha wo hisaab tha
mera kya tha tere hisaab me
mera saans saans udhaar tha

What was mine in your reckoning?
Each breath, a borrowed plea.
What was mine in your reckoning?
Each breath, a borrowed plea.
What passed was simply time,
What remained, a dust to be.
What was mine in your reckoning?
Each breath, a borrowed plea.

In your longing, we took flight,
A few dry leaves of the plane tree.
In your longing, we took flight,
A few dry leaves of the plane tree.
Fallen by the wind's cruel hand,
Among them, a humble me.
What passed was simply time,
What remained, a dust to be.
What was mine in your reckoning?
Each breath, a borrowed plea.

A sorrowful, desolate evening,
A face, and a single light.
A sorrowful, desolate evening,
A face, and a single light.
And nothing else upon the earth,
Just the heavens' fading might.
What passed was simply time,
What remained, a dust to be.
What was mine in your reckoning?
Each breath, a borrowed plea.

Thoughts of great Sufis, sublime,
And his speech, a master's art.
Thoughts of great Sufis, sublime,
And his speech, a master's art.
I asked not if he was truly that,
Just a soul of broken heart.
What passed was simply time,
What remained, a dust to be.
What was mine in your reckoning?
Each breath, a borrowed plea.