Each night I bleed a part of my soul to her beauty,
Silken words congeal like a mole to her beauty.
A lone moon is treading forth the liminal dust of evening,
The dying sun has hitched a veil of kohl to her beauty.
Is that a beeline of suitors to the bounty of her blossoms?
Garrisons failed to conquer the poles to her beauty.
I have wandered in the prisons for days and nights a million,
The holy books will offer no parole to her beauty.
Uma you who scribble such scandalous ghazals in English,
Your pencil is but dripping wet charcoal to her beauty.