Haasil se haath dho baith ae aarzu-khiraami

O restless Hope, your striving only brings you pain, My heart's a drowned domain, and all is now in vain.

Like to a candle snuffed before its light could wane, I bear the brand of things undone, and all is now in vain.

You speak of faithlessness and how it brings you strain, My good repute torments me more, and all is now in vain.

To shred a rose is murder, though no mark is plain, Your grace, a sword that kills unsheathed, and all is now in vain.

She meets my words with silence and a cold disdain, While messengers may claim her ear, and all is now in vain.

My strength, a myth; my thoughts, a fire that sears the brain, O Grief, you burn! My heart's still raw, and all is now in vain.

Though all my life in sorrow's grip I have been lain, My tale of love, like my complaint, is incomplete, in vain.

In his despair, your Asad breaks the Sāqī's chain; The thirsty cross the river dry, and all is now in vain.