It is eminently true in the case of Panjab folk songs. If you must go to serve in the battle-front, Oh rider of the blue horse! Carry me in your haversack. And wherever the night falls, Oh rider of the blue horse! Pull me out and take me in your arms. This song in Punjabi echoes the heart-cry of the Panjabi people. They have had trouble always in store for them. They had to fight many a battle of their own as well as those of their neighbours. And this has made the Panjabi woman fearless. She is bold. She asks her lover to carry her along even to the battle-field. The vine is in blossom! The vine is in blossom! Parrots are nibbling away at the blossoms. The vine is in blossoms! The vine is in fruit! The vine is in fruit! But he who should eat it is far, far away. The vine is in fruit! I go and ask the priest, I go and ask the priest With a trayful of pearls, I go and ask the priest. Open the patri, Oh priest, pray, open the patri. When will my jewel return? Pray, open the patri. The priest opens the patri, the priest opens the patri, In the month of Sawan will your jewel return. The priest opens the patri, False is your patri, Oh priest! False is your patri, It's the month of Sawan and my jewel hasn't come. False is your patri, Oh priest! The vine is in blossom! The vine is in blossoms!