Swiftly the light shikara
From sunny Bijbehara
With sweet fruit freighted
To the silent city glides;
Through maze of lotus
The lacquered paddle glides
Swiftly the light shikara
From sunny Bijbehara,
Ah, Jhelum River.

Cutting the cool green rushes,
Robbing the wild rose bushes,
Beating the branches of the weighted walnut trees;
Clipping the silver willows that ramble in the breeze,
Cutting the cool green rushes,
Robbing the wild rose bushes,
Ah, Jhelum River.

But hark! ’tis the hum of the city!
Ah! would I might linger yet,
A journey, alas, lies before me,
Dear love, thou wilt not forget?