O Sajjan, O thief of Rudiya, the flower of my mind, the thread of my heart, the flower of love, today has passed, many days have passed, many years have passed, the sweet song of the cuckoo in the morning is like the voice of your love The sound of the night is heard, the sweet chirping of the tree that pours into Rudia is like the red rain of love that makes you sad in your memory, the cord of the waves that are bound in your love, the sweet chirping of the birds gives the message of your arrival and the letter of your love.

Oh, the words of your love written by remembering the lonely experience of the night, like the new dawn of love, the memory of the love of...