ghar hamara jo na rote bhi to veeran hota

Though I should never weep, my home a waste would be; If sea were not the sea, a desert waste would be.

Why grieve my heart's tight space? This rebel heart I own, If not so tightly bound, in wider pain would be.

A life of pious vows should earn a final prize; If Rizwan kept her gate, my faith not vain would be.