I agree, O heart, that my ghazals are not easy to take in.
When they hear my works, experienced poets

tell meI should write something easier.
I have to write difficult, otherwise it is difficult to write.

Why not let us compromise
about Denmark's proper size,
which will truly please us all,
since it's bigger than it's small.

ab iraadaa hai ki patthar ke sanam puujuu.Ngaa
taaki ghabaraauu.N to Takaraa bhii sakuu.N, mar bhii sakuu.N
aise insaano.n se patthar ke sanam achchhe hai.n
unake qadamo.n pe machalataa ho damakataa huaa Khuu.N
aur vo merii muhabbat par kabhii ha.Ns na sake.n
mai.n bhii be-rang nigaaho.n kii shikaayat na karuu.N

Aansuon key saath sab kuchh bah gaya
Dil mein sannata sa baqi rah gaya

Chhod aaya hun zameen-o-aasman
Fasila ab aur kitna rah gaya

Lidt sønden Fløj,
der bløw a føj,
der hjalp a tit mi' Kow a Døj.
Det blæser møj
i den Graan Bøj,
men baag hwer Dig' gir Minder Løj.

Ati nahi kahi se dil E Zinda ki sada
suune pare hai kucha O bazar ishq k
hai shama E anjuman ka naya husn e ja gudaz
shayad nahi rahe wo patango k valvale
taza na rakh sakgi rivayat E dasht O dar
wo fitnasar gaye jinhe kante aziz the
ab kuchh nahi to neend se akhe jalaye ham

If you in the village think that my work was a good one,
Who closed the saloons and stopped all playing at cards,
And haled old Daisy Fraser before Justice Arnett,
In many a crusade to purge the people of sin;
Why do you let the milliner's daughter Dora,
And the worthless son of Benjamin Pantier,
Nightly make my grave their unholy pillow?

I Haven voxer Æbletræet smukt,
Men der maa Solskin til at skabe Frugt,
I Skyggen her dit Blomster Duft os gav,
— Men ingen saae Dig, Du kun fandt en Grav.

Fra Strængene flyver en Fuglehær,
Den synger med Hjerte og Tunge;
Vi Hjerteslaget fornemmer i hver;
Thi griber det Gamle og Unge.
Min Tak er saa ringe, en fattig Sang,
Men tro mig, den ogsaa har Hjerte-Klang.

Den muntre Skjald i Muld er gjemt,
Hans Strængeleeg staaer reent forglemt;
Gjør den igjen for Støvet fri,
Endnu er' Tonerne deri.