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چــِـہ روزگاریــہ

بــَـچـِـہ ڪــِـہ بــوבیــمــ

دُפֿتــَـر بـَـچـِـہ ها عاشـِـق عـَـروسـَـڪاے פֿـُـوشگـِـل بودَלּ

پــِـسـَـر بـَـچـِـہ ها عاشـِـق مـَـــرבاے قــَـوے

بــُـزُرگـــ ڪـِـہ شـُـدیمــ ...

دُפֿتــَـرا عـــاشق مـَـرבاے قــَوے شـُבלּ

پــِـسـَـرا عاشـِـق عــَـروسـَـڪـــ ـ ـ ــــ ! ! 

I loved you first: but afterwards your love

    Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song

As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.

    Which owes the other most? my love was long,

    And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;

I loved and guesse at you, you construed me

And loved me for what might or might not be –

    Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.

For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’

    With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,

         For one is both and both are one in love:

Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’

         Both have the strength and both the length thereof,

Both of us, of the love which makes us one

قلـــــــــبے شڪــستـﮧ...

ایـــטּ منـــم ..
دختــرے تنــــها
با قلـــــــــبے شڪــستـﮧ در دسـت
کـﮧ نیـــمـﮧ اش را دســت او گـــــــم ڪـرده اســت
به او بگویــید برگــردد
با او ڪــارے ندارم ...
فقط میــخواهم نیــمـﮧ ی دیـگر قلبــم را گـــداۓ ڪـُـنــَـ م !

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