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
Zamane bhar ki baton mei hame bhula na dena
jab kabhi yaad aaye to zara muskura dena
zinda rahe to milenge dost
nahi to har diwali mere naam ka diya jala dena