Uske rukh per joh zulfon ki ghata chaa jati hai,

Mere dill me kuch ajab si khalish mach jaati hai.

Jabb badta hu chumne uss rukh-e-gul ko,

Apne zulfon ke jaal me woh phaans leti hai.

                                           ~Umer  Beken

                                                       46. HER HAIRS 

When the lock of her hair falls like a dark cloud on her blooming face,

There's an occurrence of some pain in my heart.

When I moved to kiss her rosy face,

She had trapped me within her hair locks.

                                      ~Umer  Beken