My innocent soul trembles and shakes.
I do not know how my Husband Lord will deal with me. ||1||
The night of my youth has passed away; will the day of old age also pass away?
My dark hairs, like bumble bees, have gone away, and grey hairs, like cranes, have settled upon my head. ||1||Pause||
Water does not remain in the unbaked clay pot;
when the soul-swan departs, the body withers away. ||2||
I decorate myself like a young virgin;
but how can I enjoy pleasures, without my Husband Lord? ||3||
My arm is tired, driving away the crows.
Says Kabeer, this is the way the story of my life ends. ||4||2||
