Hai vasl hijr aalam-e-tamkeen-o-zabt mein

The lover needs a veil for the beloved's sacred fire; what love demands is a moth's wing to feed its own desire.

When union, absence, are but poise and cold command, what love demands is a wild heart and a teasing hand.

A kiss from those red lips will one day be possessed; what love demands is reckless nerve and a pointless quest.