Gila hai shauq ko dil mein bhi tangi-e-ja ka

My longing chides my heart for being such a narrow space, As all a river's torment finds within a pearl its place.

I know that from your hand a written answer will not come, But I'm a willing captive to the thrill of a pen worn numb.

If this is what you call the spring, it's henna on the feet of Fall; The pleasure of this world is but the mind's perpetual thrall.

In parting's grief, don't bid me seek the solace of the rose; I have no patience for the senseless laughter it bestows.

I still yearn for communion with the very soul of Grace; Each hair upon my body is an eye that scans this place.

My heart was lost already to her artful airs and grace; I lack the mind to bear the full demands of Beauty's face.

Don't say my weeping only shows the measure of my pain; My vision holds the ledger of the river's loss and gain.

Asad, I see the heavens and her image fills my sight; Her cruelty is fashioned in the style of sovereign might.

I am a part of every heart's own twisting, burning ache; I am the meaning in the fevered letters lovers make.

No space was granted where a single madness could take flight; I carried a whole desert's dust within my heart to endless night.