Nigaho me or koi dosti ke kabil na raha,is kinare ka or koi sahil na raha.Chand jaisa dost mila hume zamin par, aasma ka chand bhi ab deedar k kabil nahi
raha.
All love at first, like generous wine,
Ferments and frets until ‘tis fine;
But when ‘tis settled on the lee,
And from th’ impurer matter free,
Become the richer still the older,
And proves the pleasanter the colder.
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
