Maar kar teer jo woh dilbar-e-jaani maange

He shoots his glance, and then my very heart demands; But who, once slain, a prize from victor's hands demands?

Your endless silence fills these vast and empty lands, So Death itself grows restless and my soul demands.

From dust of one who thirsted, a green sprout expands, And like a tongue, for just one drop of rain demands.

A coiling snake is dread, but your dark, twisting bands Are such a force, their victim no last drink demands.

Your mouth, a void, to ask for hearts? It understands A prize so great, it only by a secret sign demands.

My heart's no message brought along in trembling hands; If my love wants it, let her own voice make demands.

Who sees true meaning's world, O Zauq, he understands, And not mere words, but for their soul's true grace, demands.