In the heart of Hindustan, a voice so divine,
Echoes of Amir Khusro, through the sands of time,
With words woven in mystic rhyme,
Bridging hearts, transcending the sublime.

Beneath the moon’s gentle glow,
Where the peacocks dance and rivers flow,
His verses sing of love’s sweet sorrow,
A timeless melody, for every tomorrow.

In the courtyards of kings and queens,
His poetry paints the most vivid scenes,
Tales of devotion, of joy and pain,
A legacy that forever will remain.

Oh, Khusro, your soul’s tender art,
A beacon of light, a guiding chart,
In your words, we find our part,
A symphony of love, from the depths of the heart.