Darling hey, why came You to my abode when going if,
Not a thing saying to me, You went on?
This was not a proper visit, mind-pleasing it wasn't;
Inmost secrets, told they were not.
A lute had played, the mind got thrilled;
Pleasure spilled apitter-patter upon sky, permit You did.
When saying that You love, in what way do You love,
If inside the mind it dwelt not?
Between You and me is half a thousand-mile gap;
And yet, with thought of Thee is my mind crammed.
Tunes that resound in Raags Deepak and Megh Malhar,
By that You left behind Your nuance.
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Between longing's heat and monsoon relief myself You hang.
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