Come back my beloved, come back!
Oh my beloved
I am full of love for you
Why do they call me your half widow?
Our pillows are full
Of your smell and my lonesome tears
My nights are full
Of your warm memories
My body is full
Of craving for your touch and sight
The tree in our lawn
Is full with fruits
On that cold snowy streets
The cat that you saved
And put inside my warm phirin
Has learned to purr now
Your gifted roses
Have spent their full fragrance
Your love-scribbled letters
Have soaked enough
Of my sobbing nights
The rose on the cup you drank from
Hasn't been watered so long
By your lovely lips
The mirror has grown old
With my face full of wrinkles
The sticks of your kangri are coming out
As if they too are seeking you like me
The clock in our room has stopped ticking
It gave in one evening
When my tears were ticking faster than its hands
Your phirin is worn out and cold
Every night when I wear it thinking of you
Come back and sew it yourself
My eyes are losing sight
I keep losing marbles you collected
For our unborn child
I plead you in the name of my unborn child
Come back and find those marbles once more
The eyes in our mohalla are no longer friendly
Come back and make them friendly again
Doctors keep asking me,
“What is your problem?”
Come back and answer them yourself
Your mother gets angry
When she doesn’t find any signs of pain
On my face
Come back so I could show my heart on my face
Come back to take care of my widowed half
