The intensity of a longing is the fire that burns the lover. O’ to be burnt in this fire is bitter-sweet bliss.

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Autumn arrives.

Zephyr dances.

Flora rustles.

Landscape blazes.

Seduction luscious.
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“Goya,” a lover of the Tenth Sovereign invades my consciousness. I translate his words...
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My heart is burnt when I separate from my lover.

My life burns for the love of my heart. - 1

That fire has burnt me intensely.

Those who hear of it get burnt like the Chinar tree. - 2

I did not burn alone in this fire of love.

The entire world has burnt in these sparks. - 3

To burn in the fire of my lover’s separation

is like the positive calcination of an experiment. - 4

Goya compliments that heart

which is burnt awaiting to see the lover’s face. - 5

- Bhai Nand Lal
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The flaming Chinar tree is in Goya’s verse.

The flaming Oak tree is in my verse.
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My heart pines for you

I burn waiting for you. - 1

This fire is consuming me

like the fiery Oak tree. - 2

Am I the only one burning in this love?

Is there anyone else burning like me? - 3

To burn in this fire of separation

is bitter-sweet bliss. - 4

I bow to the heart

That burns waiting for you. - 5
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If this torment is to awaken me, then I welcome this eternal pain; this eternal pining. For it only you whom I seek.

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