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O naive heart by Mirza Ghalib

O naive heart, happening to you is what?
Afterall, the remedy of this pain is what?

I am eager and she is disintrested.
O God! Happening here is what?

I also have a tounge in my mouth.
I wish someone asks me case is what?

When here none exept you is present,
Then this fuss, O God, is what?

How are these with beautiful visages.
These side glances, airs and couquetry is what?

Why do the crimp of curls smell of fragnance?
Just like the sight of blackened eyes is what?

Where from has the greenery with flowers come?
The clouds and the air is what?

I hope for faith from her.
For she doesn’t know faith is what?

Yes, do good and good will happen to you,
Else, the call of mendicant is what?

I just offer my life to you,
For I don’t know a prayer is what.

I realize that there is nothing, Ghalib,
But if you get it free, bad in it is what?

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