Shiv Kumar Batalvi's - "TitleeyaaN - Butterflies" (Presentation - Desh Ratna)

TitaleeyaaN MaeN titleeyaaN phaRdi phiraaN. MaeN titleeyaaN phaRdi phiraaN. ZiNdagi di khubsoorat- Pushp-basti mahikdi choN, Soun raNgeeyaaN, neeleeyaaN, ChamkeeleeyaaN te peeleeyaaN, Sochdi jaaN saareeyaaN toN- Van- suvani phaR lavaaN, Te tetale jahe khaMb usde MoDHeeyaaN vich jaR lavaaN. Par jadoN maeN phaRan lagaaN Is taraaN dil kaMb jaaye, Jis taraaN koi shaakh mahindi di Hava vich thartharaae, Door titli uhD jaaye. Phul gunaah de dhupp kaale SupniyaaN vich khiRan lagan, Mahik khiRe itar-bhini- DhaRkanaaN vich pasar jaaye. UDadi uDadi titleeyaaN di - Sohal jahi paTnaar aaye. Phul gunaah de vekh Tahike Mast jahi ho baeTH jaaye. MaeN aNjaani phul saare ToR jholi paa lavaaN, Par jadoN maeN Turan lagaaN Jholi meri paaT jaaye. Te door titli uhD jaaye. MaeN vallalli sochdi haaN - Ki phaRaaNgi titleeyaaN. Bhar ghamaaN di sarad poh vich Phul khushi de saR gaye, Vel saavi aas di de Paht naroye jhaR gaye. Vekh ni oh shaah sihaaeeyaaN VaadeeyaaN vich DHilak aaeeyaaN, Chugan gaeeyaaN door DaaraaN HasrataaN diyaaN parat aaeeyaaN. zinNdagi di shaam hoi KaNwal dil de sauN gaye, Trael katare aatma de Dul gaye, kujh pi gaeeyaaN. Ni svaad la la titleeyaaN. Jad kade vi raat beetu Sochdi haaN din chaRhega. MuR bhulekha kaalkhaaN da SoorajaaN nu na ravega. SaaNjh da koi kaNwal doodhi, DhartiyaaN te khiR pavega. Aas hae ke fer aRiya Mahikdi us gulfashaaN choN, Titali maeN phaR sakaaNgi.

TitleeyaaN - Butterflies I catch butterflies, I catch butterflies. From the beautiful Flower-scented garden Of life, I catch Golden-colored, blue, Shimmering and yellow ones! I think that if catch them all, From the entire forest. I will jab their butterfly wings To their shoulder. But whenever I try to catch them, My heart begins to tremble Like a branch of henna That shivers in the breeze. And the butterfly takes flight. Flowers of sin, like some black sun , Bloom in my dreams Their perfume-sodden fragrance Spreading through each heartbeat. A delicate, queenly butterfly Comes fluttering by, Delighted to see the flowers of sin, She alights, intoxicated. I, unaware, pluck all the flowers And put them into my cloth bag. But when I start to leave The cloth tears, And the butterfly takes flight. How foolish I was to think That I could catch a butterfly! The cold winter of grief Scorched my flowers of happiness. The green vine of hope Shed its healthy leaves. Seeing this darkness, They slipped back to the valley, they returned, The red birds that had flown far to seek Their desires. It is the evening of life Lotus-hearts lie asleep. The dew drops of my life Have spilled, some sipped Deliciously, by the butterflies. As the night goes by, I think that day will surely dawn, That once again the sun will not err, Regarding darkness. A milky lotus of the evening Will bloom upon this earth again. I hope that once again, In that perfumed garden I will be able to catch butterflies.