In the town, when a procession comes,
she lowers her gaze out of shyness,
sometimes at this, sometimes at that, and sometimes at herself she listens,
the bangles I brought for her, she wears them day and night,
she doesn't let them fade in her palm,
on top of my name, she puts beautiful henna,
then sitting in front of the mirror, she turns herself into a bride,
hiding my picture, she turns herself into the groom.
she lowers her gaze out of shyness,
sometimes at this, sometimes at that, and sometimes at herself she listens,
the bangles I brought for her, she wears them day and night,
she doesn't let them fade in her palm,
on top of my name, she puts beautiful henna,
then sitting in front of the mirror, she turns herself into a bride,
hiding my picture, she turns herself into the groom.