Sher on Dil

The evening felt hazy and smoke-like, and even beauty looked quietly sad.

Many half-formed stories returned to the heart, as if remembered, and then stayed there.

The couplet links outer scenery with inner feeling: a smoky dusk mirrors a dim, heavy mood. Even “beauty” appears depressed, suggesting love itself has lost its shine. In that atmosphere, old memories and unfinished tales rise inside the heart and linger, not becoming clear words—only a persistent ache.

The evening felt hazy and smoke-like, and even beauty looked quietly sad.

Many half-formed stories returned to the heart, as if remembered, and then stayed there.

The couplet links outer scenery with inner feeling: a smoky dusk mirrors a dim, heavy mood. Even “beauty” appears depressed, suggesting love itself has lost its shine. In that atmosphere, old memories and unfinished tales rise inside the heart and linger, not becoming clear words—only a persistent ache.

O Lord, I have grown tired of the gatherings of this world.

What joy is there in any company when the heart’s flame has gone out?

The speaker confesses a deep fatigue with worldly entertainments and social circles. “Gatherings” symbolize external glitter, while the “extinguished heart” points to inner deadness—loss of passion, meaning, or faith. Without an awakened inner self, even the liveliest assembly feels hollow. The couplet’s emotional core is disillusionment turning into a prayerful yearning for a truer, inward light.

O Lord, I have grown tired of the gatherings of this world.

What joy is there in any company when the heart’s flame has gone out?

The speaker confesses a deep fatigue with worldly entertainments and social circles. “Gatherings” symbolize external glitter, while the “extinguished heart” points to inner deadness—loss of passion, meaning, or faith. Without an awakened inner self, even the liveliest assembly feels hollow. The couplet’s emotional core is disillusionment turning into a prayerful yearning for a truer, inward light.

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.

Tell these longings to go and settle somewhere else.

There isn’t that much room left in my wounded, scarred heart.

The speaker addresses their own “hasratein” (unfulfilled desires) as if they were people occupying space. The heart is portrayed as already stained with pain—so full of wounds that it cannot hold any new cravings. The emotional core is exhaustion: sorrow has crowded the inner world, leaving no capacity for further yearning.

Tell these longings to go and settle somewhere else.

There isn’t that much room left in my wounded, scarred heart.

The speaker addresses their own “hasratein” (unfulfilled desires) as if they were people occupying space. The heart is portrayed as already stained with pain—so full of wounds that it cannot hold any new cravings. The emotional core is exhaustion: sorrow has crowded the inner world, leaving no capacity for further yearning.

The heart’s verdict is decided only through the eyes’ look.

If there is no playful spark in the gaze, what charm of belovedness remains?

The couplet says that the first and deepest judgment of love is made through a glance. The eye becomes a language that reveals attraction, confidence, and intent without words. “Shoḳhī” (playful boldness) in the gaze is presented as the very essence of allure; without it, beauty feels lifeless and persuasion fails.

The heart’s verdict is decided only through the eyes’ look.

If there is no playful spark in the gaze, what charm of belovedness remains?

The couplet says that the first and deepest judgment of love is made through a glance. The eye becomes a language that reveals attraction, confidence, and intent without words. “Shoḳhī” (playful boldness) in the gaze is presented as the very essence of allure; without it, beauty feels lifeless and persuasion fails.

Only I am here—along with my heart and this loneliness.

If you were here too, it would have felt much better.

The couplet compresses an entire emotional world into a bare room: the self, the heart, and solitude. “Heart” stands for a restless inner life that cannot be comforted by the speaker alone. The second line is a soft, conditional wish—your presence is imagined as the missing piece that could turn emptiness into ease. The pain is quiet, expressed through simplicity rather than complaint.

Only I am here—along with my heart and this loneliness.

If you were here too, it would have felt much better.

The couplet compresses an entire emotional world into a bare room: the self, the heart, and solitude. “Heart” stands for a restless inner life that cannot be comforted by the speaker alone. The second line is a soft, conditional wish—your presence is imagined as the missing piece that could turn emptiness into ease. The pain is quiet, expressed through simplicity rather than complaint.

If You are to grant me a heart, then grant one with this kind of temperament.

One that can pass even an hour of sorrow with a feeling of joy.

Dagh Dehlvi turns the request to God into a prayer for inner disposition rather than outward comfort. The “heart” stands for one’s emotional nature, and “temperament” for the ability to interpret hardship. The core feeling is a longing for resilience—such a steady, grateful spirit that even pain can be endured with cheer. It suggests true happiness is an inner state, not a change of circumstances.

If You are to grant me a heart, then grant one with this kind of temperament.

One that can pass even an hour of sorrow with a feeling of joy.

Dagh Dehlvi turns the request to God into a prayer for inner disposition rather than outward comfort. The “heart” stands for one’s emotional nature, and “temperament” for the ability to interpret hardship. The core feeling is a longing for resilience—such a steady, grateful spirit that even pain can be endured with cheer. It suggests true happiness is an inner state, not a change of circumstances.

If there was to be such an overwhelming amount of sorrow in my destiny,

Then O Lord, You should have granted me many hearts to bear it all.

The poet presents a complaint to God regarding the disproportionate balance between his suffering and his capacity to endure it. He argues that a single human heart is too fragile to contain the vast grief written in his fate. The wit lies in the suggestion that if the sorrow was infinite, the tools to bear it (hearts) should have been multiplied as well.

If there was to be such an overwhelming amount of sorrow in my destiny,

Then O Lord, You should have granted me many hearts to bear it all.

The poet presents a complaint to God regarding the disproportionate balance between his suffering and his capacity to endure it. He argues that a single human heart is too fragile to contain the vast grief written in his fate. The wit lies in the suggestion that if the sorrow was infinite, the tools to bear it (hearts) should have been multiplied as well.

Why even speak of the heart’s ruin and emptiness?

This city has been plundered a hundred times already.

The heart is imagined as a city repeatedly raided by sorrow. After so many losses, the speaker feels that mentioning its desolation is pointless, because devastation has become the norm. The exaggeration “a hundred times” conveys the long, repetitive history of pain and the numb resignation that follows.

Why even speak of the heart’s ruin and emptiness?

This city has been plundered a hundred times already.

The heart is imagined as a city repeatedly raided by sorrow. After so many losses, the speaker feels that mentioning its desolation is pointless, because devastation has become the norm. The exaggeration “a hundred times” conveys the long, repetitive history of pain and the numb resignation that follows.

O my naive and foolish heart, what state have you fallen into?

After all, does a remedy even exist for this kind of pain?

The poet addresses his own heart with a mix of affection and frustration, calling it 'naive' for falling in love. He questions the nature of this suffering, implying that the spiritual or emotional malady of love is unique because it seemingly has no cure in the physical world.

O my naive and foolish heart, what state have you fallen into?

After all, does a remedy even exist for this kind of pain?

The poet addresses his own heart with a mix of affection and frustration, calling it 'naive' for falling in love. He questions the nature of this suffering, implying that the spiritual or emotional malady of love is unique because it seemingly has no cure in the physical world.