That night of drinking, that moonlight night, was not mine alone;

It was everyone’s dream.

The dream called mine was not mine alone;

It was everyone’s dream.

The heart had longings to settle down in the shade of her tresses;

They were not in my heart alone;

They were everyone’s dream.

There were thousands of hearts

But when they throbbed, it was as if they were one;

When they were restive, it was as if they were one;

When they leaped, it was as if they were one;

When they gave out their fragrance, the world’s heart became fragrant;

The heart of the Volga, Yangtze, Nile, and Ganges;

There was a warmth of feeling in you;

I wonder where it has gone;

There was moonlight near my heart;

I wonder where it has gone.

.

From: Bisāt̤-i raqṣ (Dance Carpet). Ḥaidarābād, Inḍiyā: Istiqbāliyah kameṭī jashn-i Mak̲h̲dūm, 1966. pp. 233 – 34