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KHUSRAU, Amir



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He visits my town once a year.

He fills my mouth with kisses and nectar.

I spend all my money on him.

Who, girl, your man?

No, a mango.

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The yellow mustard is blooming in every field,

The yellow mustard is blooming in every field,

Mango buds are clicking open, other flowers too;

The koyal chirps from branch to branch,

And the maiden tries her make-up,

The gardener-girls have brought bouquets.

Colourful flowers of all kinds,

In hands everyone’s bringing;

But Aashiq-rung (the lover), who had promised to come

To Nizamuddin’s house in spring,

Hasn’t turned up - its been years.

The yellow mustard is blooming in every field.


Chaap Tilak


You've taken away my looks, my identity, by just a glance.

By making me drink the wine of love-potion,

You've intoxicated me by just a glance;

My fair, delicate wrists with green bangles in them,

Have been held tightly by you with just a glance.

I give my life to you, Oh my cloth-dyer,

You've dyed me in yourself, by just a glance.

I give my whole life to you Oh, Nijam,

You've made me your bride, by just a glance.



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I have become you, and you me,

I am the body, you soul;

So that no one can say hereafter,

That you are someone, and me someone else.”