Your heart can never be equal to mine in feeling and loyalty.

That one can’t be glass and this one can’t be stone—our natures are different.

Dagh Dehlvi contrasts two hearts by calling one “glass” (fragile, sensitive) and the other “stone” (hard, unfeeling). The speaker says emotional parity is impossible because their inner temperaments are fundamentally unlike. Beneath the comparison is hurt pride and a complaint of coldness from the beloved. The metaphor sharpens the sense of mismatch in love.

Your heart can never be equal to mine in feeling and loyalty.

That one can’t be glass and this one can’t be stone—our natures are different.

Dagh Dehlvi contrasts two hearts by calling one “glass” (fragile, sensitive) and the other “stone” (hard, unfeeling). The speaker says emotional parity is impossible because their inner temperaments are fundamentally unlike. Beneath the comparison is hurt pride and a complaint of coldness from the beloved. The metaphor sharpens the sense of mismatch in love.

In love, there are countless little things that feel delightful, Dagh.

Those who do nothing at all achieve the real feat.

The couplet plays with a witty paradox: love seems full of enjoyable “tasks,” yet the greatest mastery is to do nothing—just to remain absorbed, patient, and present. “Doing nothing” hints at letting love act on its own, without forcing outcomes. The emotional core is playful admiration for quiet devotion and effortless surrender.

In love, there are countless little things that feel delightful, Dagh.

Those who do nothing at all achieve the real feat.

The couplet plays with a witty paradox: love seems full of enjoyable “tasks,” yet the greatest mastery is to do nothing—just to remain absorbed, patient, and present. “Doing nothing” hints at letting love act on its own, without forcing outcomes. The emotional core is playful admiration for quiet devotion and effortless surrender.

You used to say: I will be faithful, I will stand by it, I will listen to you.

Do you still remember whose words those were?

The couplet recalls a lover’s old assurances—faithfulness, constancy, and obedience—and then turns them into a pointed question. By asking “whose words were these,” the speaker highlights the gap between promises and present behavior. The tone carries reproach mixed with sorrow, using memory as evidence against forgetfulness and betrayal.

You used to say: I will be faithful, I will stand by it, I will listen to you.

Do you still remember whose words those were?

The couplet recalls a lover’s old assurances—faithfulness, constancy, and obedience—and then turns them into a pointed question. By asking “whose words were these,” the speaker highlights the gap between promises and present behavior. The tone carries reproach mixed with sorrow, using memory as evidence against forgetfulness and betrayal.

You reduce to dust the very person who meets you with true heart.

Someone who truly loves me is found only with great difficulty.

The speaker complains about cruel ingratitude: the sincere friend/lover who comes from the heart is the one being humiliated and destroyed. “Dust” suggests disgrace, ruin, or being cast down. The second line stresses how rare such genuine love is, so harming it is an even greater folly. The emotional core is grief mixed with protest at not valuing devotion.

You reduce to dust the very person who meets you with true heart.

Someone who truly loves me is found only with great difficulty.

The speaker complains about cruel ingratitude: the sincere friend/lover who comes from the heart is the one being humiliated and destroyed. “Dust” suggests disgrace, ruin, or being cast down. The second line stresses how rare such genuine love is, so harming it is an even greater folly. The emotional core is grief mixed with protest at not valuing devotion.

O Dagh, tell your friends that this is not a child’s game.

The command of the Urdu tongue comes only after much time and effort.

Dagh Dehlvi stresses that writing or speaking refined Urdu is a serious art, not something to be taken lightly. The phrase “aati hai… aate aate” suggests slow, hard-won attainment through practice and lived experience. Beneath the boast is a warning and a humble truth: real eloquence takes patience, discipline, and maturity.

O Dagh, tell your friends that this is not a child’s game.

The command of the Urdu tongue comes only after much time and effort.

Dagh Dehlvi stresses that writing or speaking refined Urdu is a serious art, not something to be taken lightly. The phrase “aati hai… aate aate” suggests slow, hard-won attainment through practice and lived experience. Beneath the boast is a warning and a humble truth: real eloquence takes patience, discipline, and maturity.