Where has he gone, my dearest friend,
My heart's mainstay, my lord of love,
That accomplished soul, my garland of pearls ?

I moved fast, but arrived nowhere
At nightfall. The goal was far away,
And my exuberant youth was gone !

Autumn winds left me distraught,
With silent blackbirds and withered flowers.
O, where is my flowering spring ?

Chasing him, my feet were sore,
My youth in bloom was blown away.
How cruel to leave me desolate !

With a passion that gripped me, body and soul,
I got the headiest wine, drank long and deep.
But where is that fine intoxication gone ?

The faith which I avowed till now,
I now recant, with no one prompting me.
O, what happened to my wisdom at this stage ?

When Mahjoor is seen no more,
The wild rose will ask the hyacinth:
Where is that warm indulgent soul ?