Why your face is down and dark,
No cries sweetheart for each everyone,
For your silky hairs a moment’s charms,
Rose springs to scatter on your arms.
Forget those who too much talk of it,
And say in your love he expired,
Akhtar, yes I have heard this name,
Neither he was loved nor admired,
Come on, take it easy, no eyes’ showers,
The garden is full of many such flowers.

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