Sad jalwa roo-ba-roo hai jo muzhgan uthaiye

A hundred splendors rise, a burning chain, But who has strength to bear sight's sacred pain?

The madman's wage is writ on stone, it's true, And you must bear the stones of childish pain.

A wall will bend beneath its builder's fee; O ruined friend, accept no debtor's pain.

Don't make a show of jealousy's deep wound, Or lift the veil that hides your smile's sweet pain.

This life's a script penned by a mirage-wave; And for a lifetime, bear its title's pain.