VI: Thou wast saying, "Grieve not any more; for…

Thou wast saying, "Grieve not any more; for I am thine, and thou art mine:"
Whether thou hast falsely or truly spoken, thou hast, indeed, given me life again.

What a lovely calamity thou art! a charmer, incomparable, art thou!
Would that there were not this defect, that thou hadst not such a cruel heart!

Should the whole universe, in every direction, be with the lovely filled;
Even then, it would be astonishing, if one were found beautiful like thee.

With so many victims slain, even yet thou showiest no pity or regret:
But what matter, though the executioner shed blood a hundred times over?

Since out of thy garden, or thy parterre, I beg for a rose from thee,
Shouldst thou but a straw on me bestow, yet I, as a rose, receive it.

As long as I may exist, I am, indeed, the captive of those ringlets,
In every hair of which, hundreds of hearts will ever be enthralled.

Whether old, or whether young, all are distracted about thee:
There is not a person in the town, that is not enamoured of thee.

The cypress-tree behold! it very soon ceaseth to be looked upon,
When thou, with this stature and figure, through the garden trippest.

The prospect of Heaven to come, is bliss to both monk and priest;
But Khushhal hath gained Paradise, at once, in meeting thee.