vesi vanta darda baagas aamut bahar aasya.....

    Friend, has springtime come to the garden of love,
    And is my sweetheart out enjoying love's bloom ?

    The breeze will wake up, at break of dawn,
    The sleeping flowers in all beds.
    But I wonder if the bulbul would be awake !

    Amazed at his tireless mission to stain her name
    From pole to pole, the dew-drenched masval asks the breeze
    'Could a soul like his have ever known rest ?'

    I am unburdening my heart to the rose,
    For I may never get a chance to speak
    To my love when I meet him face to face.
    How cruelly he forsook me after clipping off my wings !
    Has ever a bird been left crippled and wounded thus ?

    A new amorous passion fills his heart,
    Or malicious whispers flood his mind.
    Else, why without cause his stony stare ?

    I said: 'Stay a moment; hear me with patience !'
    He said: How long am I to listen to your endless plaints ?

    The blackbird said to the crow: 'How senseless
    This cawing ! When you see that he is drunk,
    How can his heart be awake ?'

    Mahjoor, both aul and bulbul are all ears to what you say.
    I hope the discerning understand what that implies !

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