jarahat tohfa, almas armaghan, dagh-e-jigar hadiya

A wound for gift, a diamond's edge, a heart where sorrows reign; Rejoice, Asad, the friend to all your suffering has come again.

My madness waits, my restless sigh becomes a binding chain; From my heart's core, the smoke of rue now rises from the strain.

To greet the star-sown moon, my eyes a mirrored court became, Wherein the spectacle itself is captured and contained.

My tough endurance, born of doubt and long-endured disdain, Has made your proud, unveiled, sharp glance now fear to cause me pain.

The flower's laugh feels cramped, and I find careless joy profane; The parting hug's calm emptiness is pleasure I sustain.

Your graceful gait, a lightning bolt, has come to strike the grain Of all my restless strivings, and my harvest now is slain.