نگاہ فقر ميں شان سکندري کيا ہے

The splendour of a monarch great is worthless for the free and bold: Where lies the grandeur of a king, whose riches rest on borrowed gold?

You pin your faith on idols vain and turn your back on Mighty God: If this is not unbelief and sin, what else is unbelief and fraud?

Luck favours the fool and the mean, and exalts and lifts to the skies: Only those who are base and low and know not how to patronize.

One look from the eyes of the Fair can make a conquest of the heart: There is no charm in the fair sweet, if it lacks this alluring art.

I am a target for the hate of the mighty rich and the great, as I know the end of Caesars great and know the freaks of luck or fate.

To be a person great and strong is the end and aim of all; but that rank is not real and true that is attained by the ego’s fall.

My bold and simple mode of life has captured each and every heart; though my numbers are lame and dull and lay no claim to poet’s art.