Ya Allah! Allow me
To live little more
For, Your Beloved I wish
To greater adore

May my heart
With his love burn;
To follow him,
May my life learn

Strange indeed is the
Thing called Love
Not any rest nor leisure
For the lover shall it allow

Strange indeed is the
Thing called Love
With no regards to the cup’s size
The wine exceeds the brim’s flow

Every now and then
He is in constant moan
Even in midst of the common crowd
His heart grazes alone in the field

Therefore, O Al Ghafoor,
Spread open my heart
For the Beloved
To make his path

Jaihoon is not among those
Who can Your Deen eloquently preach
Yet, include him along those
Who can Your Beloved’s love far reach

May his eyes be pure and chaste:
A glance on Your Beloved he may cast

Set him free from pride
Even as slight as mustard seed

Let not envy on his heart feed
As fire consumes the dry weed

Make him brave and bold
Anger upon him never unfold

For ambitious heights does he aspire
The Full Moon when in him love inspire

His dreams will never cease
Death till upon him play tease

O Generous Lord!
Even for the Devil
Much respite did You avail

Hence, grant this sinner
When in the Qabr
The fortune to honor
Shone whom as Qamar

Strange indeed is the
Thing called Love
Whenever I think of Your Beloved
All my worries cease, or get halved

sallallahu ala Muhammad, sallallahu alaihi wa sallam!

Jan 8, 2003