O friend, my mind is all distraught !
Who weaned my lord oftlove from me ?
Whose witchcraft made him hostile ?

I taught the bulbul songs of love -
Songs that woke up all the flowers.
But I ignored the bird of the mind !

When I poured out my heart to the smiling bush,
The flowers were all aflame with a tearing passion;
I quenched their fire with my tears.

My manifestation, bearing both infidel fragrance
And the colour of the faithful, amazed the garden,
And all hearts of stone decamped in fright.

I posted the poshinool at flower beds
To reveal the truth with a sensible mind,
And inscribe the same on the petals of all flowers.

I dyed my robe in the colour of the sky;
But since it manifested constant change,
My own true colour was lost.

I wanted to know from the horoscope
The date when he and I would meet.
But the jyotshi went wrong, and I was lost.

My many complaints made me lose him at Chhanazal
(Did he suspect a hidden attack ?)
At Tosmaidan he was angry, and I lost him again !

Waking up the dew-drenched bud from sleep,
I saw that he wouldn't last, and gave him
The wine of love, and left him full of nectar.

I bedecked myself with eagerness,
And scent from my body floated wide;
But he chose rather to see my mind !

I made Mahjoor sing songs of love
Which alone can chase the blues away.
That's how I composed my distracted heart.