Caress and then betray is not my way of love,
To let them wait and stay is not my way of love.

Although sometimes it's true, always seeing this bonding
As just a fleeting play is not my way of love.

Secrets of me and her stay a secret forever,
Putting that on display is not my way of love.

Lies and vile corruption accompanied by lust,
Leading her to that way is not my way of love.

My truth will stay I learned, even if she's beautiful,
With her to go astray is not my way of love.

I am no butterfly, although my life is one,
To love for just a day is not my way of love.

I have no love right now, only a broken heart,
But to wait and decay is not my way of love.

No one has or will have a Light like his,
He, who was sent as a Mercy and bliss.

One man, yet much uncountable blessings,
Clueless how to repay for all of this.

I do envy those who have seen his face,
To times I have not seen I do reminisce.

We still have yet not seen his bright being.
Until that Day, it is the rose we miss.

Mâhî lacks rhymes to continue this praise,
That Day will show how luminous he is.

I can't even find traces of your feet,
The dust has covered all places, every street.

All the bright tales who are concealed by veils,
Are filled with cries and smiles; bitter and sweet.

When the moonbeams are bestrewn at night,
Waves lying towards shores flit, float and fleet.

As long as the Cup of Youth is sipped from,
Smiles shine like the moon and stars who retreat.

Gain, gain and gain, but it still feels empty,
For some reason, the soul feels not complete.

That Gihon is dream-drunk and world-sober,
From sleep to awake like the Phoenix's heat.

That harem doors veil jewels I'm aware tonight,
But still I'll decide not to visit there tonight.

The nightingale lost his way in the rose garden,
A red mist descended upon the blue air tonight.

I don't approach it neither do I forget it,
Like a lonely widow's ring of despair, tonight.

Desire would go like cinnamon mist at dawn,
To take a sip from it I will not care tonight.

A candle's flame can be turned off by sorrow's breeze,
Yet that breeze gives incense a source to flare tonight.

Two glances are to be considered forbidden,
So I'll delay one glance into a stare tonight.

O Gihon, be as lucid in dreams as in verse,
And write a dream and avoid a nightmare tonight!

फ़ना दीवार करना चाहता हूँ

मैं सब से प्यार करना चाहता हूँ

हवा में ज़हर घोला जा रहा है

मैं खुशबू-दार करना चाहता हूँ

वफ़ा की अब यहाँ क़ीमत नहीं है

पलट कर वार करना चाहता हूँ

पकड़ से लफ़्ज़ छूटा जा रहा है

जिसे इज़हार करना चाहता हूँ

उधर से फिर पुकारा है किसी ने

समुंदर पार करना चाहता हूँ

Not falling for you – that was my vow,
Now in desires' chains, I did it anyhow.

Even if I will become blind, my friend,
Seeing myself in greed, I'll not allow.

Even in the winter and the autumn,
Rose, out of humbleness to you I bow.

Upon your cheek I see a glowing candle,
I'm a fire since I have seen your brow.

Mâhî, you used to be a child of simplicity,
But a prince of riddles and puzzles now.

i touch you, running my fingers through your hair
   and see god behind my eyelids
the fragile shadow of your lashes onto your cheek
   more beautiful than the moon

how many alternate realities
   we had to sidestep to get to each other
the magnificence in the stars aligning
   cosmic accident springing from a primordial goop

you reached for my hand like a sunday morning
   and held it like a saturday night
next thing i know
   i’m having thoughts of taking in your laughter intravenously

gazing at you like you were the pacific
   and i was desperate to drown
nothing to give
   but my furiously delicate heart

your eyes remind me of tinted windows
   you could see out, but i could never see in
you imagine the way i haven’t changed
   the same as i imagine the ways you have

is it harder to explain what it was like
   to have known you or to have known your absence?
but i found my home in the place
   where my neck met your shoulder

of those three words you said to me
   which one do you think of the most?
the memory fades,
   i’m left hanging on to the ghost of your words

you made each skeleton in your closet feel special
   before they were thrown back in your ***** clothes pile,
the used and forgotten,
   i am only one of them

i saw it coming but at the same time i didn’t
   because i didn’t believe you could possibly be that ******* cruel
a difficult truth to conceptualise
   but i guess some people are only capable of loving the idea of you

it hurt, loving you, but angelica still feels the pain was worth it
   every time your hand touched hers, she was reborn
she may be left for dead in your mistakes
   but she cannot bear to say she ever regrets you

This summer air carrying sweet perfumes,
Of the youths and lasses,
Coming off the elaborate costumes,
Of new fashion's masses.

The fair views are waiting to be captured,
Artist minds enraptured,
Into the bright spring  each camera zooms,
With transparent glasses.

All this curious and lovely asking,
A romantic setting,
Leading to melancholic, soothing glooms,
Who’re put in strange classes.

One glance was stretched into a reverie,
With bliss in memory,
Like sunbeams through thin curtains in dark rooms,
And slowly it passes.

Here summery embroidery's read,
Mâhî's line is his thread,
And his imagination is what blooms,
Pages are canvases.

Upon the cheek I see the glow of love,
How then could it present the woe of love?

A scented ringlet flows around the ears,
So my dreamy eyes see the flow of love.

With pearly gleams and some roseate hues,
Your fine gallery is a show of love.

To make me toss and turn with doubting feelings,
To not think about me, that's low of love.

With all its glamour, splendor and its grace,
If you can, make us a photo of love.

The synthy music plays; a world does bloom,
The rapper spits some rhymes; a flow of love.

Mâhî's a poet, he did write 'bout love:
''Happiness, that's what I do know of love.'''

This sheen, it is a soothing glow of moonlight,
This night, it is a calming show of moonlight.

I ponder, thinking about the rosewater
Of love, seeing it in the flow of moonlight.

I see silver-wings in the waving waters,
Spread widely, as if it's a crow of moonlight.

I view something in my imagination:
It's smelling like lilies that brow of moonlight.

Is that an ode to moonbeams, that silver shape?
In the sky there's a bowing bow of moonlight.

Let's sway like the trees in the midnight breeze!
Silently in the meadow of moonlight.

The silence penetrates the lonely night,
Mâhî, that it is calm, you know of moonlight.