Translation by ai:
Come, let me tell you my story;
When I lost life while still alive;
In the 17 years of my funeral;
I cried for the first time.
It was a time when my soul had already died;
Living in my own home, in loneliness;
What should I search for reality;
When I'm sleeping in the weaving of dreams.
Now only memories are left;
If it was morning, then in the evening;
From outside, I appear as a human,
From inside, in grief, in torment, in misery.
Inside, I am shattered;
I don't even listen to myself;
Continuously causing pain to loved ones;
Continuously shattering dreams;
Yet it seems to them, in the weaving of hopes;
I am a rose without a thorn;
In the prison walls of happiness.
I just weep on this world;
Then people say, why so much talk in the eyes;
Everyone knows about their deeds;
Still committing all these crimes;
Then they say we don't know;
But why do you find us on the banks of the Ganges.
Still, those tears didn't stop that night;
Remembering all those years in vain,
That I spent in oblivion;
These tears are not sorrow, they are memories;
Memories of her existence;
She was like kohl-laden night;
Only until she was with me;
When she died, it was revealed;
Those tears had drowned me;
When she said those words as she left.
Listen to me, my beloved;
Let's run away;
All those nights passed alone;
Let's walk together now.
But how do I walk with her;
I had convinced her a lot;
There was no place to go;
I had no earnings.