My heart is stolen by my robber’s grace,
Within it dwells the fairness of her face.

A beauty’s looks are always fair, but still
The beauty of my love has power to kill.

My reasons’ words lose trach of where and whence.
For my beloved’s beauty stuns my sense.

A lover is a picture on the wall;
Her faithless grace has power to enthrall.

The rose’s face was shamed; the dew did harm,
Just see my modest one endowed with charm !

My headache, “Wali” will become much less
When I behold her sandal-scented dress.

Author Sajjaad Hussian Peerbhai

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