Wich Rohi day Rahndiyan Nazuk Nazuk Jatyan
Wich Rohi De Raandiyaan, Naazuk Naazo Jattiyaan
Raateen karan shikaar dilaan de, deehaan valodan mattiyaan
Gujjare teer chalaavan kaari, sai sai dilariyaan phateeyaan
Kar kar dardmandaan koon zakhmi, hai hai badhan na pattiyaan
Chhedan bhedaan bakriyaan gaayi le le gaabe kattiyaan
Kai maskeen musaafar phaathe, chaud keeto ne tratiyaan
Dhui daar fakeer theeyun sai fakhar vaddaaiyaan stiyaan
Haun dilbar de kuttade dar dai birhon paiyaan gal gattiyaan
Moonjh fareed mazeed hamesha, aj kal khushiyaan ghattiyaan
विच्च रोही दे रहन्दियां (correct pronunciation is raandiyaan)
विच्च रोही दे रहन्दियां ।नाज़क नाज़ो जट्टियां ।
रातीं करन शिकार दिलें दे ।डेहां (deehaan) वलोड़न मट्टियां ।
गुझ्झड़े तीर चलावन कारी ।सै सै दिल्लड़ियां फट्टियां ।
कर कर दरदमन्दां कूं ज़खमी ।है है बधन न पट्टियां ।
छेड़न भेडां बक्करिया गाईं ।ले ले गाबे कट्टियां ।
कई मसकीन मुसाफर phaathe ।चौड़ कीतो ने तरट्टियां ।
धूई दार फ़कीर थ्यु से ।फ़खर वड्डाईआं स्ट्टियां ।
हउं दिलबर दै कुतड़े दर दै ।बिरहों पईआं गल गट्टियां ।
मूझ फ़रीद मज़ीद हमेशा ।अज्ज कल्ह खुशियां घट्टियां ।
They attack their prey during night hours,
While in the daytime they wander around in wasteland.
They throw their sharp spears,
to lacerate hundreds of innocent hearts
They injure the pitiable natives,
And don't even bandage the wounded people afterwards.
They play with sheep, goats and cows,
lambs, oxen and Buffalos,
They have ambushed many meek visitors,
Who failed to break out of the trap,
I became a celebrated saint,
But my pride made me low
I am a dog on my beloved’s door
with the strap of separation around my neck
O Farid! My sorrows are ever increasing
मूझ फ़रीद मज़ीद हमेशा ।अज्ज कल्ह खुशियां घट्टियां ।
Translation
In the Rohi desert delicate country girls live
They attack their prey during night hours,
While in the daytime they wander around in wasteland.
They throw their sharp spears,
to lacerate hundreds of innocent hearts
They injure the pitiable natives,
And don't even bandage the wounded people afterwards.
They play with sheep, goats and cows,
lambs, oxen and Buffalos,
They have ambushed many meek visitors,
Who failed to break out of the trap,
I became a celebrated saint,
But my pride made me low
I am a dog on my beloved’s door
with the strap of separation around my neck
O Farid! My sorrows are ever increasing
there is no sign of bliss these days
Singing oneness!
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