Nigare subah teri arzu mey khoya gaya
Woh shabe chiragh jisey teirgy sey nafrat thi
Woh ik harfe junoo jo ada hua sare daar
Woh khush jamaal jisey khudkushi sey nafrat thi
Jo chahta tha labe surkhe yaar ka mausam
Junoo ba doshe wisaal bahaar ka mausam

The beauty of morning was lost in your quest.
That night lamp that confounded darkness;
That mad utterance made at the gallows;
That handsome lad who loathed suicide;
Who longed for the season of red lips.
Who longed for the season of madness on the eve of union.

Hassan Abid