Ishq mujh ko nahin vehshat hi sahi

If not your love, this wild obsession—so be it; My obsession only builds your fame—then so be it.

Do not sever all connection with me; If nothing else remains, then enmity, so be it.

Why is my presence such a source of shame? If not in public, then in private, so be it.

I am no enemy unto myself; Let my rival have your love, then so be it.

Let my own being be the source of all; If not true insight, then oblivion, so be it.

Though life itself moves with a lightning stride, There’s time enough to make this poor heart bleed, so be it.

Do you think I would renounce my constancy? If this is not love, but a torment, so be it.

O unjust heavens, grant me some small thing: The right to cry my anguish out, so be it.

I too will learn the art of yielding, then; If your proud distance is your nature, so be it.

Let this fond banter with my love play on, Asad; If not our union, then this yearning, so be it.