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When did I say, like this you wait?
To fix your gaze on my portrait.
In yearning of me, she is dazed,
Thorns in hand firmly she seized,
Without a blink, her eyes freezed.
A girl deep in love with poet waits for him,
when mirza is late enough to make her weep In His Wait.
Mirza Expresses his concern for beloved.

— The End —