maine puchha chand se ke
dekha hai kahi mera yar sa hasin
chand ne kaha, chandni ki kasam, nahi nahi nahi
maine puchha chand se ke
dekha hai kahi mera yar sa hasin
chand ne kaha, chandni ki kasam, nahi nahi nahi
maine puchha chand se

maine ye hijaab tera dhundha
har jagah shabab tera dhundha
kaliyo se misaal teri puchhi
phulo ne jawab tera dhundha
maine puchha baag se
falak ho ya jamin, aisa phul hai kahi
baag ne kaha har kali ki kasam nahi nahi nahi
maine puchha chand se

ho, chaal hai ke mauj ki rawani
julf hai ke raat ki kahani
honth hain ke aayine kawal ke
aankh hai ke maykado ki rani
maine puchha jaam se, falak ho ya jamin
aisi may bhi hai kahi
jaam ne kaha maykashi ki kasam nahi nahi nahi
maine puchha chand se

khubsurati jo tune payi
lut gayi khuda ki bas khudayi
mir ki ghazal kahu tujhe mai
ya kahu khaiyaam ki rubayi

mai jo puchhun shayaro se
aisa dilnashi koi sher hai kahi
shayar kahe shayari ki kasam, nahi nahi nahi
maine puchha chand se ke
dekha hai kahi mera yar sa hasin
chand ne kaha, chandni ki kasam, nahi nahi nahi
maine puchha chand se

I asked the moon,
"Have you seen, anywhere, my beloved's face so fair?"
The moon replied, by the light it wears, no, no, never.
I asked the moon,
"Have you seen, anywhere, my beloved's face so fair?"
The moon replied, by the light it wears, no, no, never.
I asked the moon,

I searched for your veil,
found it everywhere, your youthful grace.
I asked the buds for your likeness,
the flowers sought your face.
I asked the gardens,
in heavens or on earth, such a bloom, is it there?
The garden said, by every bud's sweet kiss, no, no, never.
I asked the moon,

Your gait, a river's flowing ease,
Your tresses, a night's dark decree.
Your lips, mirrors to the lotus' bloom,
Your eyes, the queen of revelry.
I asked the cup, in heavens or on earth,
such wine, is it there?
The cup declared, by intoxication's sway, no, no, never.
I asked the moon,

The beauty you possess,
steals God's own artistry.
Shall I call you a ghazal of Mir?
A quatrain of Khayyam's decree?

I questioned poets,
such a heart-stealing verse, is it there?
The poet said, by poetry's soul, no, no, never.
I asked the moon,
"Have you seen, anywhere, my beloved's face so fair?"
The moon replied, by the light it wears, no, no, never.
I asked the moon.