Dono jahan de ke woh samjhe yeh khush raha

He gave both worlds and thought my joy was there; But silent awe forbade another prayer; what's to be done?

The weary fall at every stage, their numbers growing spare; If we can't find your trace, we must despair; what's to be done?

The candle has its friends who wish it well; But if the grief's a soul-melting spell, what can a comforter then share? what's to be done?