My maternal family has a citrus farm in Punjab, where my grandmother would take me there sometimes during wheat harvest, and this wandering dervaish would come to our haunted haveli and sing this song.
My grandmother had buried adult children in their prime( including my mother) and patronized a lot of dervishes and fakirs.
So this rockstar would come and sing a very sad lament by Bulleh Shah. I have tried to translate the poem from its original Punjabi to English.
The blossoming of love is strange and wondrous