O look not back! nor hesitate,for sun declines in West-Thy pace do quicken, do not restere sunrise try to reach
O sun, make it not hard for me,by setting very soon:The tracks of Punhu let me seeere I in mountains die.
A rain is pouring from my brow,hot perspiration's stream;What I thought love, revealed is nowconsuming fire flame.-
The day is burning, she doth movenow swifter on her way;This Brahmin girl, an ancient lovefor the Bluchis has.
As long you live, aglow remain;there's no way without fire;In hot and cold, swift pace maintainthere is no time to rest.
On rising, thought of mountaineersdid overwhelm me there;I shall leave Bhambore, nought endearsthis Bhambore to my heart.
Sisters, for pleasures of Bhamborethe caravan I missed;Therefore I now with sorrow sorethe monutains have to search.
Sisters, your freedom do secureby leaving Bhambore now;Our old comrades here did enduremuch sorrow and much pain.
In Bhambore is the smoke of hell;Sisters, from Bhambore part-Sasui take the guide and startearly and not delay.-
Sisters, my heart is sorrow-cleft.and wounded I do live...Of loved-ones all, for whom I longalas, I am bereft;Can I forget those who have lefte'en now before my eyes?
Bhambore, the town of ugliness,the noble prince adorned;Lord of the mountains, from whole worldremoved fear and distress,Maids art of printing learnt, modelwas Punhu,s loveliness-Unrivalled one, Bhambore did blessand decent it became.-
The Bhambore that not walked behindthe Hoat, confounded got;Unrivalled One, the town did notrecognize, walked like blind;Those priviledge were, who did findhis beauty with their hearts.-
Who saw him with their hearts, did feelto follow him at once;When Punhu did himself conceale'en then they followed him.-
In hot and cold incessantlywalk on, and do not wait;At fall of night you will not seethe tracks of him you seek.
There was a time when princely Hoatmy clothes to wash did choose;Now even camelmen refuseto take me with themselves.
My gown is at my shoulders torn;alas my head is bare-O sisters in your Bhambore fairWhat have I now to do?
From grief and woe she did obtainthe lead, to walk the way;It was from guidance of the painshe Punhu found at last.-
A hundred comforts I will giveand bargain too my head,If in exchange I may insteada single sorrow get.
Sweet sorrow, do not you departas went away my love...To none I may pour out my heartbut you, since he has left.
Sorrow, joys' beauty constitute;joys without sorrows spurn;By virtue of such sorrow's moodmy love comes to my arms
We walk in fellowship with 'Care'but keep the world at bay-When even very young we were,sorrow made home with us.
Those who are seeking for the friend,one day the friend will find;The seeking ones will at the endreach loved-ones domicile.-
No more alive...or dead...yet deathI feel is claiming me...Beloved...I give up my breathin longing now for thee.-
Had you died yesterday, you'd metyour Punhu yesterday,All hale-and-hearty, never yetsucceeded finding love.
As soon or late I death must see;may I in mountains die...Sisters, so that my death should beon my Beloved's count.
Better in mountains cut and sore,striving for Punhu, die-That all the world for ever morethy love shall glorify.-
She follows in pursuit, calls, cries-but smiles when tracks she finds;Who turns one step back when she diesshall ne'er the loved-one see.-
As night advances, swifter growsher step and swifter still...Her innocent mind nothing knowsbut the word: "rider-spouse".
Don't cease to call persistently;keep calling, begging still-Then riding-men may suddenlyrelax, remembering thee.
To whate'er you in life adhere,Links after death remain;And those who cannot see Hoat hereHow will they see him 'there'?