Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers'' eyes. Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers'' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet
Ik Isharay Ki Muntizer Hon Teraiy, Phir Mujh Sey Kiun Faslon Pay Rehtey Ho Dedaar Tera Ho Jai Terey Ashiq Ko Our Kia Chaheye Tamana Hai Tujhe Bahon Mein Bhero Labon Ko Chomo Khatim Houa Intezaar Aa Jou ,Yeh Sada Chaheye