Oh, the intoxication of your absence, in what moment is it not present? My beloved is like a lover who was never born.

Mir Taqi Mir paints a picture of paradoxical love. He suggests that the path of careless abandon is always available to the lover, but the real complication lies in the beloved. The beloved, according to Mir, is not merely a person; they are themselves like a capricious, wandering lover—unpredictable and elusive. It’s a profound lament about the nature of love, where the source of comfort is also the source of constant turmoil.