patta patta buta buta haal hamara jaane hai
jaane na jaane gul hi na jaane bagh to sara jaane hai

only the flower's unaware, rest of the garden knows
my state,each leaf and every bud that in the garden grows

lagne na de bas ho to us ke gauhar-e-gosh ko baale tak
us ko falak chashm-mah-o-khur ki putli ka tara jaane hai

now if it can, her pearldrops from being strung, it will prevent
stars in the eyes of sun and moon they're in heaven's intent

aage us mutakabbir ke hum khuda khuda kiya karte hain
kab maujud khuda ko wo maghrur-e-khud-ara jaane hai

against her supreme arrogance, god's name is no reprieve
she, being so vain and self absorbed, in god does not believe

aashiq sa to sada koi aur na hoga duniya mein
ji ke ziyan ko ishq mein us ke apna wara jaane hai

as foolish as a lover in this world there would be none
in love although his life's forfeit he thinks that he has won

chaaragari bimari-e-dil ki rasm-e-shahr-e-husn nahin
warna dilbar-e-nadan bhi is dard ka chaara jaane hai

healing hearts is not the wont of where these beauties stay
or my beloved, naive although, too can this ache allay

kya hi shikar-farebi par maghrur hai wo sayyaad bacha
tair udte hawa mein sare apne asara jaane hai

see how the child captor is proud at hoodwinking her prey
deems all those birds her prisoners that in the sky array

mehr o wafa o lutf-o-inayat ek se waqif in mein nahin
aur to sab kuchh tanz o kinaya ramz o ishaara jaane hai

kindness, faith, favor or mercy none with her agree
though she is acquainted with all forms of coquetry

kya kya fitne sar par us ke lata hai mashuq apna
jis be-dil be-tab-o-tawan ko ishq ka mara jaane hai

what forms of mischief on his head does my beloved rain!
if someone, frail and wan, she thinks to be a hapless swain

rakhnon se diwar-e-chaman ke munh ko le hai chhupa yani
in surakhon ke tuk rahne ko sau ka nazara jaane hai

from the garden wall's recesses she keeps her face away
as she believes her charms will then be on public display

tishna-e-khun hai apna kitna 'mir' bhi nadan talkhi-kash
dum-dar aab-e-tegh ko us ke aab-e-gawara jaane hai

how thirsty for his own blood miir that innocent man seems
that shimmer of the sharpened sword, sweet water he deems