(1220) Smrti buke niye base achi
I bide my time, bearing in breast a memory;
Departed are those days that I am missing.
With eyes traced by kohl, awake am I
In expectation of Your arrival.
In winter's piercing northern wind
And in the red-hot wind of summer...
Under every circumstance, it is You in my heart,
At all times, in every wish and attainment.
On autumn evenings in the golden clouds
And in dry season,[1] frost-wet nights aroused...
Coming with wind's roaring speed in winter,
I get Your touch with a shiver.
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You are all that I remember, everything I know.
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