Like a moth that flies
To the flame to burn itself in brightness,
I come to you, my love, with my heart full of love
To burn in the passion of our ever flaming love
I write my love for you
in couplets in my ghazals of love
I did not know what was I upto
Till I was labeled your lover
My love praises were all for you
Like the flute of Krishna
Making melodies for his darling, Radha
Your glances cast a spell on me
My drunkenness is now your love
I need not visit a tavern now
To forget the worries of the world
Seasons come and go
But you always stay on my mind
I still feel your fragrance on me
Like fresh spring flowers in a bouquet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem