RaatH dhal jaata hain, ---- The night passes, Shamma bhuj jaate hain, ---- And lamps burn out. Justhaju reh jaati hain. ----Separation remains.

Mohobbath ho jaati hain, ---- Love, somehow, begins Dil bikhar jaate hain. ---- And hearts are scattered again. Dard reh jaata hain. ---- Ache remains.

Waqt beeth jaatha hain, ---- Quicksilver time slips by Mulaqaath ho jaate hain. ---- And many meetings occur. Dost kuch reh jaate hain. ---- Few remain friends.

Imaartein gir jaate hain, ---- Monuments become ruins, Kasme tootH jaathe hain. ---- And promises come undone. Ghazal reh jaate hain. ---- Poems remain.

In my courtyard stands the city, Tessellated like a starry sky.

The evening fills like a garden in spring. Raindrops efflorescence on windowpanes.

And after the rain, night would emerge Washed like a glass of cut crystal.

The dust-covered evening will morph Into a low simmer of red, neon flashing

Or perhaps ribs cooking on coal. I breathe deep. Is this the scent of meat?

Or is it the fragrance of the Stranger, One who will stab me in my dreams?

When the simplest is difficult, breathing for example and the difficult becomes simple, poetry for example

How does one explain such a state? Both love and lounging are so close, the twin heads of a janus night.

The moon hangs in the horizon and everything below is illuminated. Perhaps then this heart lies in deep shadows.

And I ask it, "Who has wounded you, my friend?" The reply: "None so far this night. Where is she, where is the beloved assasin with her cool and quick knife?"