atee roz madanvara qadman ha lagay paaree...
Stay
your feet, my love, to let me kiss them
With my life. O, listen
to my tale of woe !
You know no kindness, pity,
mercy, faith !
How strange, my sweetheart
! O, turn back
From your cruel sport of
inflicting pain !
Being an artless woman,
not knowing where to go,
I can do no more than nurse
the pain of love.
Pouring out my woes, when
we met long ago,
Made me feel so light,
all anger melting away.
As modesty dictates, I confined
the fire
To my bosom; but couldn't
his heart soften,
Knowing what thorns I have
borne ?
The dark wine cups of your
eyes promised
Unearthly bliss. False
hope ! Couldn't they
At least desist from slaying
hearts ?
He revealed his radiant
form just to show
That he could overpower
running game and kill,
Like one would fell a cypress
!
I can't bear the agony,
and will run after my love,
Track him in every street,
seek him in every shop.
Stop, Mahjoor ! Who'll read
these tales of love ?
Keep love in your heart,
for love is not for sale.
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