Ishq e Maula Me Huñ Khooñ-Baar Kinaar e Daaman
Ya Khuda Jald Kahiñ Aaye Bahaar e Daaman
As I Weep In The Love Of My Master, The Edges Of My Robe Are Bleeding
O Allah! Bring The Season Wherein, The Edges Of My Robe Will Be Blooming
Beh Chali Aankh Bhi Ashkoñ Ki Tarah Daaman Par
Ke Nahiñ Taar e Nazar Juz Dosah Taar e Daaman
Falling Onto My Lap, Even My Eyes, Like Tears Are Flowing
I Have No Line Of Vision, But A Few Threads, On The Edges Of My Robe Flowing
Ashk Barsa-oñ Chale Koocha e Jaanañ Se Naseem
Ya Khuda Jald Kahiñ Nikle Bukhaar e Daaman
My Tears Are Flowing, As The Sweet Breeze From The Beloved’s Court Is Blowing
O Allah! Let Not The Warmth Evaporate, From The Edges Of My Robe, Departing
Dil Shuduñ Ka Ye Huwa Daaman e At’har Pe Hujoom
Be Dil Aabaad Huwa Naam Dayaar e Daaman
At The Edges Of Your Sacred Robe, Is A Crowd Of Lovers, Their Hearts, Sacrificing
Named, ‘A Colony Of True Lovers’ Are The Edges Of Your Robe’s Surrounding
Mushk Sa Zulf Shah o Noor Fishaañ Roo e Huzoor
Allah, Allah! Halb e Jayb o Tataar e Daaman
Fragrant Like Musk Is My King’s Hair, From His Face, Beams Of Light Are Glowing
Allah, Allah! Such Is His Hair Along His Collar & The Edges Of His Robes, Flowing
Tujh Se Ay Gul Me Sitam Deedah e Dasht e Hirmaañ
Khalish e Dil Ki Kahuñ Ya Gham e Khaar e Daaman
O My Rose! While Afflicted By Deprivation Of The Desert, Should I Be Narrating
The Anxiety Of My Heart Or The Grief Of The Thorny Edges Of My Robe, Piercing
Aks e Afgan Hai Hilaal e Lab e Shah Habeeb Nahiñ
Mahr Aariz Ki Shu’aa-eñ Haiñ Na Taar e Daaman
Brightly Are The Crescent Shaped Lips Of The Beloved Nabi, Reflecting
Neither Is It The Sun’s Rays, Nor The Stripes Of The Edges Of His Robes, Glowing
Ashk Kehte Haiñ Ye Shaida-ee Ki Aankheñ Dho Kar
Ay Adab Gard e Nazar Ho Na Ghubaar e Daaman
While Rinsing The Eyes Of The True Lovers, Their Tears Are Announcing
Be Respectful O Dusty Vision! Soil Not The Edges Of His Robe, Weeping
Ay RAZA! Aah, Wo Bulbul Ke Nazar Me Jis Ki
Jalwa e Habeeb Gul Aaye Na Bahaar e Daaman
O Raza! Pity On The Vision Of The Nightingale Who Is Not Capable Of Seeing,
Either The Manifestation Of The Beloved Or The Edges Of His Robe, Blooming
