Kāfi No. 1
Rabbā merā hāl dā mahram tūñ
Andar tūñ haiñ bāhar tūñ haiñ rom rom vich tūñ
Tu hī tānā tūñ hī bānā sabh kuch merā tūñ
Kahe Hussain faqīr nimānā maiñ nāhīñ sabh tūñ
O God, you are the confidant of my days
You are inside, outside, you are in every pore
You are the warp and weft, my each and everything you are
Says Hussein, the worthless fakir, I am nothing, you are all
Kāfi No. 2
Charkha merā rangṛā rang lāl
je vaḍ charkha te vaḍ mune
hun kaha gayā bārāñ punne
sāīñ kāran lo’in runne
roe vanjāyā hāl
je vaḍ charkha te vaḍ ghumā’an
sabhe āīāñ sīs gundā’an
kāI na āyā hāl vanḍā’an
hun kāī na chaldī nāl
vacche khāhad gūhaṛā vāṛā
sabho laṛ da veṛā pār
maiñ kīa pheṛyā veṛā dā nī
sabh paīāñ mere khayal
je vaḍ charkha te vaḍ pachī
mā peāñ mere sar te rakhī
kahe hussein faqīr sāīñ dā
har dam nāl sañbhāl
My colourful spinning wheel I painted red
the bigger grew the wheel
the greater the weave
twelve years passed
for the sake of my Sain
these eyes weep
and weeping worsens my state
the bigger the wheel
the wider the spins
they all came to get their hair done
no one came to share my sorrows
no one willing to go along
a calf ate up the cotton ball
all my neighbours raised a ruckus
what did I do wrong? They all went after me
the bigger the wheel
the heavier the basket my parents placed on my head
say Hussein, the Sain’s fakir
take good care of what you carry
Read the original Punjabi in Shahmukhi and Gurmukhi
Translated by Naveed Alam (from Verses of a Lowly Fakir).
Transliterated and edited by R. Singh
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