The Unfaithful Lover

O Iqbal! You are a strange mixture of opposites You are the elegance of assembly’s crowd as well as alone

O lunatic with colorful song! Your struggles and efforts Are the garden’s beauty as well as wilderness’ adornment

You are the associate of stars due to your flight’s elegance O land traveler your steps also traverse the sky

Your forehead is in prostration in the midst of preoccupation with wine In your system are some colors of the system of goblets also

Like flower’s fragrance you are devoid of color’s dress Though you are a creator of wisdom you are also insane

Like waves you are running to the destination without foot-prints And then you are also left behind like the seashore

Female beauty has the effect of electricity for your nature And strangely enough your loves are unconventional also

Your existence depends on the amusement’s law Are you prostrating only at a single door step?

Among the beautiful you are famous for infidelity O fickle-minded! You are famous as well as infamous

You have come into the world with mercury’s nature Your restlessness is lovable, you are very restless

What the disturbance of love has turned into wilderness I keep that handful of dust concealed under the cloak

It has thousands of facets, each of a different color I keep such a multi‐faceted diamond in my breast

The poet’s heart, is but intoxication’s toil and hustle What do you know, what I keep inside my breast!

In every intoxication of Love there is a new effulgence of Longing I am restless, I have a heart unacquainted with rest

Though a new beauty every moment is the sight’s object I have a firm covenant of fidelity with the Beauty

Beniazi has created my nature’s Niaz I keep the struggle for the Longing like the zephyr

The spectacle of a single flying spark Cannot be assuasive as I have a thunderous heart

What may fulfill every demand of the nature of Love Ah! Attainment of that Perfect Effulgence is my aim

The search for the Whole misguides me into It’s parts The Beauty is boundless, I have the incurable pathos

My life depends upon Love’s extreme compassion But I keep the Love free of customs of fidelity

The truth is that lack of imagination produces fidelity I have a new Resurrection Day ever fresh in my heart

Cup-bearer’s bounty is like dew, heart’s capacity demands oceans I am always thirsty, I have a burning fire under my foot

By creating me He created His own critic As a picture, I have complaint against my Painter

If the Beauty was so short-lived in existence’ assembly Why then do I keep such a boundless imagination?

I am constantly struggling in the Longing’s wilderness I am the ocean’s wave, I carry my destruction on my shoulder