Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their body’s force,
Some in their garments though new-fangled ill,
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest,
But these particulars are not my measure;
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments’ costs,
Of more delight than hawks and horses be;
And having thee, of all men’s pride I boast—
Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take,
All this away and me most wretched make.
ġham tumhārā thā zindagī goyā tum ko khoyā use nahīñ khoyā fart-e-girya se jī na halkā ho bas yahī soch kar nahīñ royā ashk to ashk haiñ sharāb se bhī maiñ ne ye dāġh-e-dil nahīñ dhoyā maiñ vo kisht-e-nashāt kyoñ kāTūñ jis ko maiñ ne kabhī nahīñ boyā aabla aabla thī jaañ phir bhī bār-e-hastī