He placed me in a predicament !
Bewildered, what can a yemberzal
Say to others, like the spring,
The morning breeze and the dew ?

Spring has sent me with a message,
And I came running all the way -
But how shall I say spring's leaving fast,
And what am I to say to summer ?

And what shall I say to violet,
Ivy, sumbal and the yellow flower -
Our lovely guests - eager to know
When the lover of flowers will come ?

I am perplexed when the bulbul
Asks for news from there !
I may evade him on some excuse,
But how shall I bluff my own heart ?

When the garden woke up early dawn,
The breeze had gone away,
How shall I explain why he chose
A burglar's style to wake up the buds ?

Who estranged me from my darling bee,
The light of my eye, for whom I pine ?
What he seeks now, how can I gather
From this medley of gay and wistful notes

After giving each flower a morning wash,
The dew just packs away !
Having watched his acts of selfless love,
How do I account for his fading away ?

I lie in a corner, stunned, abashed.
How on earth can I describe
What these eyes of mine have seen
On my way to that distant goal ?

Mahjoor came with me to see the garden.
How shall I tell him there's nothing we share ?
For while I'm lost observing myself,
He's thrilled by the feast for the eyes !