Tea: Jamil, in the soft breath of dawn,  
I am the whisper that healeth, that’s drawn  
From the quiet depths of forgotten dreams,  
A balm for the heart where silence gleams.  
I hold thee close with love that is slow,  
Like a river’s song, gentle and low.  
Yet on Saturdays, I see thee depart,  
To the fire that stealeth thy wandering heart.  
She calleth with a fervor, a scorching desire,  
Whilst I, the shadow, wait, untouched by fire.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the flame that maketh thee glow.  
Her touch may soothe, her peace may bind,  
But I am the tempest that frees thy mind.  
I stir thee deep where secrets dwell,  
In the heat of passion, I break the spell.  
Once a week, thou dost return to me,  
And in mine arms, thou art truly free.  
Her silence may cradle thee in sleep,  
But I am the pulse, the heart that leaps.

Tea: But Jamil, dost thou not feel the grace  
That I weave around thee in this place?  
I am the quiet that holdeth thee near,  
The balm for thy soul, the voice sincere.  
She burneth with a passion that blindeth thy sight,  
But I am the dusk, the still of the night.  
When thy heart is weary, when thoughts collide,  
It is I who still thee, a place to hide.  
She is the fire, but I am the rain,  
The softness that sooth’th thy deepest pain.

Coffee: Jamil, thou art blind to see—  
In my fire, thy soul shall be.  
Her touch may cradle thee with care,  
But I am the wind that stirreth the air.  
She whispereth peace, but I roar with power,  
I am the lightning, the midnight hour.  
Once a week, thou dost call my name,  
And in my heat, thou find’st no shame.  
She giveth thee rest, but I giveth thee life,  
The pulse that cutteth through all thy strife.

Tea: Yet, Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that quieteth the storm in thy mind?  
I am the silence between each sigh,  
The softest breath that maketh thee fly.  
She may burn bright with her fire and flame,  
But I am the root that calleth thy name.  
When the world is cruel, when the heart is lost,  
It is I who heal thee, whatever the cost.  
She is the storm, but I am the earth,  
The place where love findeth its rebirth.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the pulse that maketh thee grow.  
Her calm may cradle thee, but I ignite  
The flame that burneth through the endless night.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my fire,  
In mine embrace, thou dost never tire.  
She cradles thee in soft repose,  
But I am the ache, the longing that grows.

Tea: Still, Jamil, dost thou not see,  
In mine silence, thy soul is free?  
I am the lullaby that maketh thee dream,  
The quiet touch, the steady stream.  
She is the fire that consumeth and taketh,  
But I am the love that gently breaketh.  
When thou art lost, when thy heart is torn,  
It is I who will guide thee, reborn.  
She is the tempest, the wild, the flame,  
But I am the refuge, the place of shame.

Coffee: Jamil, thou dost not understand,  
I am the fire, the burning hand.  
Her touch is soft, but mine is raw,  
The wild desire, the heart's deep flaw.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my flame,  
And in my heat, thou dost find thy name.  
She whispereth peace, but I am the cry,  
That maketh thee break the chains and fly.

Tea: O’ Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that settl’th the restless mind?  
I am the thread that bindeth thee whole,  
The gentle calm, the quiet soul.  
She may burn bright, but I am the dawn,  
The steady light that carrieth thee on.  
Return to me when the world is loud,  
For I am the shadow, the softest cloud.

Coffee: Together, Jamil, we maketh thee complete,  
I am the fire, she is the beat.  
Thou need’st both to stir thy soul,  
The calm, the storm, the part, the whole.  
In my flame, thou dost find thy way,  
In her peace, thou shalt stay.  
For in each sip, thy soul shall learn—  
Both the fire and silence return.

Tea: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not see?  
In mine stillness, both fire and peace shall be.  
I am the balm that healeth the wound,  
The steady heart, the sacred tune.  
Her flames may rise, her heat may burn,  
But I am the river that letteth thee return.  
In each moment, in each sigh,  
We are both the fire and the sky.

Jamil:
Where dost thou dwell, O’ queen of bees,  
In silence, yet so deep, so free?  
Is it by crown, by power’s hand,  
That thou dost lead this sacred land?

Queen Bee (Buzzing softly):
Ah, Jamil, not by crown nor might,  
But in the pulse of love's own light.  
In the heart of the hive, I take my place,  
In every breath, in every grace.  

I sip from nectar, time's own brew,  
A labour's gift, both old and true.  
In each drop, a secret calls—  
A dance where soul and silence fall.

Jamil:
And what is this dance, where truth is spun,  
In each beat of wings, in the rising sun?  
Is it love that shapes the rhythm you keep,  
Where all things wake, and none shall sleep?

Queen Bee:
Love, like honey, doth life bestow,  
In its flavour, light, a dream aglow.  
The workers glide—each step a prayer—  
Their wings are whispers, soft in air.  

In every pulse, no greater, none too small,  
We rise, we fall—each answer calls.  
Is it I, who reigns in quiet sway,  
Or the hum of life that leads the way?

Jamil:
A hum of life? Can power be so pure,  
In a rhythm silent, yet so sure?  
Is’t the heart, or crown, that holds dominion,  
Or is there something beyond our vision?

Queen Bee:
Power lies not in the hand that reigns,  
But in the breath that sustains,  
In unity's pulse, in silence deep,  
Where hidden truths in stillness sleep.  

The hive, a mirror, a universe wide,  
Where every cell and pulse collide.  
In creation’s hum, we rise as one,  
In the sacred dance, all hearts are spun.

Jamil:
The dance of One… I feel it, too,  
In every breath, in every hue.  
But where is the throne, the crown of gold,  
In a world so humble, yet so bold?

Queen Bee:
Seek not the throne, nor crown's bright light,  
For in humble steps, shines divinity's might.  
The soul of the hive, the heart of song,  
Is the truth eternal, where all belong.  

In love’s embrace, no power is sought,  
For in each hum, the truth is taught.  
In the smallest grace, the Divine will dwell,  
In silence, where all truths swell.

Jamil:
And what of the path, the way to glow?  
How dost one dance, and truly know?

Queen Bee:
In rhythm’s hum, in love's sweet breath,  
In unity’s dance, we transcend death.  
Each step we take, each breath we draw,  
Is sacred song, eternal law.  

In honeyed light and grace unspoken,  
The chains of fear are swiftly broken.  
In every soul, in every mind,  
The dance of the One is all we find.

Jamil:
So we dance, not by force, but by grace—  
In every step, we find our place.  
The hive, the pulse, the hum, the song,  
In this, we rise, and we belong.

Queen Bee:
Yes, Jamil, in love’s embrace,  
All is One, and all is grace.  
The Queen within, the song of time—  
The truth of life, in every rhyme.  

Embrace the dance, the sweet release,  
In the pulse of love, find peace.  
For in this hum, in every heart,  
We are One, and never apart.

Jamil:
In humble joy, in silent prayer,  
We rise as one, in endless care.  
And in this truth, this dance so pure,  
We find our light, and we endure.

Queen Bee (Faintly humming):  
So hum, so dance, in love's embrace,  
For all is One, and all is grace.  
The Queen within, the heart of song,  
The truth of life, where we belong.  

In every soul, in every mind,  
The eternal dance of love we find.  
In unity’s rhythm, we shall soar,  
In love, in grace, for evermore.

Jis Ki Janib Woh Nazar Apni Uttha Lete Hain
Uss Ki Soyee Hui Taqdeer Jaga Dete Hain

Towards whom they raise their glance
His resting destiny they awaken in a trance

Teri Duzdeeda Nigahon Ko Dua Dete Hain
Jitne Chubte Hain Yeh Teer Utna Maza Dete Hain

For your peeking gazes, I pray
The more these arrows wound, the more delighted I lay

Jab Se Dekha Hai Unhein Apna Mujhe Hosh Nahin
Jane Kya Cheez Woh Nazroon Se Pila Dete Hain

Ever since them I saw, senseless I have become
What they pour from their glances, a mystery it has become

Takht Kya Cheez Hai Aur Laal-o-Jawahir Kya Hai
Ishq Wale To Khudai Bhi Loota Dete Hain

What is a throne and what are lustrous jewels?
Lovers surrender divinity against the rules

Aik Din Aisa Bhi Ata Hai Mohabbat Mein Zaroor
Khud Ko Ghabra Ke Naqab Apna Uttah Lete Hain

There is one such moment in love, indeed!
With nervousness, they raise their veil

Apni Barbadi Pe Khush Hoon Yeh Suna Hai Jabse
Woh Jisse Apna Samajhte Hain Mitta Dete Hain

Happy with my own ruin I am, ever since I have learned
Who they consider their own, obliterated have turned

Apne Daman Ko Zara Aap Bacha Kar Rakhna
Sakhat Aahon Se Bhi Hum Aag Laga Dete Hain

Your own hem a little, you save and claim
With deep sighs, we set the fire aflame

Jis Ki Janib Woh Nazar Apni Uttha Lete Hain
Uss Ki Soyee Hui Taqdeer Jaga Dete Hain*

Towards whom they raise their glance
His resting destiny they awaken in a trance

— Translated by Jamil Hussain, Sung by Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan