Here we stand, after so many assignations, strangers after all. So how many more encounters till we become friends?

When will the spotless verdant spring return? And how many monsoons are required to wash our bloodstains away?

Numerous are the wounds of our love which has now lapsed. And unforgiving are the dawns that came after those forgiven nights.

What our hearts wished, our splintering hearts gave no respite to be fulfilled. Nor could we voice our complaints as lovers cajolingly do.

You went to tell them all this, Faiz, in your set of clean simple lines. But even after you did, what you wanted to tell remains untold after all.