Beloved, your lithe grace maddens me - my heart
Brimming over with love and longing !

Your arch glance, O thief of love,
Makes me love you to distraction !

Who really has your heart - friends you feed
On promises, or those on whom you lavish your time ?

Some have sought retreat in distant nooks,
Some roam over every mountain range,
Seeking you, following your elusive shadow !

Leave this hostile place, my love, and settle down
Where you always ought to be - a village of friends !

The early breeze approached the flowers,
Feather-touched them in soft and shadowy waves,
Presenting your demand for love !

Mahjoor finds whole villages
Loud in praise of your beauty;
And the deep forests too, my love,
Are breathless in your praise !