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Afreen Afreen

It is not possible to praise the beauty of beloved.

O the most beautiful one!

Even if you see my beloved, you would also say

O the most beautiful one!

I never saw anyone so beautiful
[her] body is like the images of Ajanta*
[her] body is like a spell on eyes
[her] body is like a song [and] perfumed
[her] body is like ecstatic music
[her] body is like sweet-smelling moon-light
[her] body is like a blooming garden
[her] body is like the first ray of the Sun
[her] body is like carved statue, eye-catching and arresting
like sandalwood
like marble.

[Her] face is like a fresh flower.
Is it her face or moon?
[her] face is like a Ghazal, [her] face is like heart of Ghazal
[her] face is like a bud, [her] face is like lotus
[her] face is like manifestation of imagination
[her] face is like a dream, and its interpretation too.

[Her] face is like the tales of Alif Laila*.
One moment real, another moment imagination
[her] face is like no other face
[her] forehead is moonlike
so is her body.

I could not keep off my eyes after seeing her eyes
they are like two cups of wine and that too, burning
are these eyes or two doors of wine-house
her downward glance is abashness
her upward glance is prayer
when eyes look up after downward glance, is like a style
eyes, in which arrested are the sky and the earth
like Narcissus
[and] greyish

The story of the tresses of beloved is also long
tresses are like shadows on my heart
tresses are like over-cast clouds
tresses like some black spectre
when tresses are entangled, so also is the world
when tresses are straight, then writing this song becomes easy
when tresses spread apart then black night downs
when tresses sway then the night sings
tresses are chains, but so beautiful
[and] perfumed

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