Purane aashiq (Female)

Hair disheveled, wet with perspiration, smiling lips and intoxicated! Torn garment, singer of ghazals, and a pitcher in hand Hair disheveled, wet with perspiration, smiling lips and intoxicated! Torn garment, singer of ghazals, and a pitcher in hand Intoxication filled the eyes, sorrow was plain upon the lips Last night at my pillow, that kind one came and sat He came close to my ears and spoke in a voice full of sorrow: "O my old lover! Has sleep captured you in its grip?" O my old lover! Are you sleeping? O my old lover! Are you sleeping? Hair disheveled, wet with perspiration, smiling lips and intoxicated! Torn garment, singer of ghazals, and a pitcher in hand Such wine as is given to lovers on nights like these— He becomes a heretic of love who is not devoted to wine, my lord! Go, O ascetic! Do not taunt us wine drinkers thus Since the beginning of time, no other gift has been found here At midnight he called out with a heavy voice, weeping Eyes red and wet, exhausted, full of complaint A bottle in hand, feet unsteady, swaying in drunkenness He came and sat beside me, silent, without asking he spoke! Bending to my ears he said: "Are you sleeping or awake? Tell me, friend!" "Time is short, the night has only begun, and here is a glass ready!" He thrust a glass into my hand and said: "Drink it! Now think no more, my friend!" Whatever he poured into our cup, we simply drank Be it the wine of paradise, or the intoxicating wine of this world! O my old lover! Are you sleeping? Hair disheveled, wet with perspiration, smiling lips and intoxicated! Torn garment, singer of ghazals, and a pitcher in hand The laughter of the wine cup, and the beloved's tangled locks— So many repentances broken, like Hafiz's broken vow... Like Hafiz's broken vow... Hair disheveled, wet with perspiration, smiling lips and intoxicated! Torn garment, singer of ghazals, and a pitcher in hand