It will never die, it will never go cold

Today when I was searching my soul,
I found that my love is not new,
it is thousand and thousand years old,

probably when the Sun, the Earth
and the stars were born,

it kept on passing from
generation to generation over time,

it was same when in the Arabian deserts
I saw you walking in the form of Lyla,

it was same when in the mosque I saw
you reading lessons in the form of Sahiba,

it was same when I was sleeping in your
garden and you raised a whip to beat me
in the form of heer,

and it was same yet again when you
came every night to meet me on the banks of Jhana,

and it was same when we both died
wandering in the desert looking to meet again,

and it will remain same even when we are gone   
it may rest sometimes, but it will never grow old,
it will never die, it will never go cold.