It is here that I began my education in Love;

Here that I took courage to express my purpose;

Here that I saw the fawning and sweet words of modesty; 

Here that I first heard the sound of my throbbing heart; 

I still remember that it was here, in the fields lying by the water.

.

In our hearts the crowds of longing remained lip-sealed;

Conversation was through glances; we made professions of love;

No crown on our forehead, no change of expression;

Even God smiled when we made love.

I still remember it was here, in the fields lying by the water.

.

She would come in the same way wine glasses are passed around;

She would come like a colourful melody, like a beautiful harp;

That attractive cloud used to come to pain me in colours;

She came, youth-drunk, swaying to serve me the drink of her lips;

I still remember it was here, in the fields lying by the water. 

.

When, with a burden of modesty she stumbled at every step,

The trembling of her beautiful body scattered into space;

Continuous stirrings on the strings of my heart’s harp;

Mutual amusing attempts to keep the secret;

I still remember it was here, in the fields lying by the water.

.

We sailed forth sitting in the golden barge of Love; 

The flood of desire surged in our breasts; 

Whenever I touched her, she was bathed in sweat, 

The taste of the strong wine of Life. 

I still remember that it was here, in the fields lying by the water.

.

The misery of life’s worries were miles from us; 

Our life was filled with an eternal ecstasy; 

Our innocent solitude was Sinai’s envy; 

The angels rocked us; houris sang for us; 

I still remember that it was here, in the fields lying by the water.

.

Today neither those fields nor the flowing waters remain, 

But a faint trace of that bygone pleasure still survives.

.

From: Bisāt̤-i raqṣ (Dance Carpet). Ḥaidarābād, Inḍiyā: Istiqbāliyah kameṭī jashn-i Mak̲h̲dūm, 1966. pp. 1 – 4