Shumaar-e-subha marghoob-e-but-e-mushkil pasand aaya

My rosary's count pleased her demanding will; A hundred hearts in one hand, a captive, silent thrill, she loved to see.

Through heartlessness, my endless hopelessness stands still; For Release itself adores my knot of stubborn will, it loved to see.

Her wish to see the garden shows her nature's chill; The way the victim writhes in blood, the life that starts to spill, she loved to see.

The very flow of blood from the one she chose to kill Reveals her swift departure's thoughtless, graceful thrill, she loved to see.

Asad, my verse has sown new gardens with a poet's skill, But it's the creative spring, the very style of Bedil, I loved to see.