At times in your bed, my love,

In the stillness of endless night,

My body is besotted by a strong passion

And my mind laden with pleasures becomes

Like a swamp in the wilderness 

Where nearby Sleep—like a bird

Flayed by an imagined hunter on his chase

As winter comes—

Flutters its wings and cries out!

In the stillness of endless night

At times in your bed, my love

Heart-felt longings crawl

In the rocks of your breast

Just like Blacks being enslaved!

.

For a moment a thought lurks in my heart—

You are not my love

But a virgin maiden of a city on a seashore

And I an enemy

Soldier 

Who, for a long time deprived of a relaxing night,

Deserted his brigade a few days ago

With an exciting desire for immense pleasure!

Such a thought lurks in my heart

At times in your bed, my love,

In the stillness of endless night.

.

From: Māvarā (Beyond). Lāhaur: Maktabah-yi Urdū, [1940]. pp. 111 – 12