Our existence is temporary just like a bubble,
This exhibition of the colorful world is an illusion like mirage.
How can I express the softness of her lips,
They are just like rose petals.
I rush to her door again and again (in hope of having a glimpse of her,
My anxiety has reached its peak.
When she heard my voice, she said,
This voice is just like the voice of that wretched man the poet.
O Meer! The drowsiness in those dreamy eyes,
Is just like that of wine