tu agar dene pe aa jaye kise kya na mile
phul ko banwara mile shama ko parvana mile
ek inayat ki najar dono jahan ke malik
jiski diwani hu mai mujhko vo diwana mile
de rihayi kaide gam se mustafa ka vasta
de rihayi kaide gam se mustafa ka vasta
mushkile aasan kar mushki kusha ka vasta
de rihayi kaide gham se mustafa ka vasta

lahu ko jab tere karm ka sahara mil gaya
dubti kasti ko toofan me kinara mil gaya
paar kar beda mera daste khuda ka vasta
de rihayi kaide gham se mustafa ka vasta

tune jab chaha to angare bane phulo ke haar
aadmi luta khalil ull alla me rut se bahar
raham barsa tujhko rahmat ko ghata ka vasta
de rihayi kaide gham se mustafa ka vasta

kon sunta hai yaha majbur insano ki baat
khichta hai sar se chadar bejijak shaitan ka hath
laaz rakh meri janaze saiyda ka vasta
de rihai kade gham se mustafa ka vasta

tu jo chahe har sitam har zulm ka sar todd de
ek kali marzi se teri lakh pathar tod de
paanv ki bedi gale to keh aksar tod de
tod de khanjar sahide karbala ka vasta
janabe saiyada ka vasta mustafa ka vasta
mushkil khusa ka vasta

If your grace descends, what remains un-bestowed?
To the bloom, a bee finds its home, to the moth, the candle's glow.
A glance of favor, from the realms above,
I yearn for the Beloved, the one my heart does know.

Grant release from sorrow's prison, by Mustafa's name,
Ease my burdens, by the strength of Mushkil Kusha's claim.
Grant release from sorrow's prison, by Mustafa's plea,

When your grace touched my blood, a lifeline did appear,
To the sinking ship, in the storm, a shore drawing near.
Guide my vessel across, by the hand of the Divine,
Grant release from sorrow's prison, by Mustafa's shrine.

When you willed it so, embers turned to floral wreaths,
Abraham's trials, blossomed from the core of grief.
Shower mercy, by the clouds of grace in the sky,
Grant release from sorrow's prison, by Mustafa's sigh.

Who heeds the cries of the weary, the frail and the weak?
From their heads, the devil unhesitatingly does speak.
Protect my honor, by the Lady's plight,
Grant release from sorrow's prison, by Mustafa's light.

If you desire, break the tyrant's cruel command,
By your will, a flower breaks a stone's cold strand.
Shatter the chains, sever the ropes, let the prison end,
Shatter the blade, by the Martyr of Karbala's hand,
By the Lady's plight, by Mustafa's command,
By the strength of Mushkil Kusha, in this sacred land.