When you had already drawn your sword and risen to strike, you should not have hesitated. Because of your delay, the longing in my heart to be slain by you remained unfulfilled and perished merely from waiting.

Here, the lover teases the beloved with a poignant complaint wrapped in exquisite irony. In the ghazal tradition, dying by the beloved's own hand is the ultimate badge of devotion, and the poet was eagerly waiting for that glorious strike. But when the beloved drew the sword and then hesitated, that very pause—the blade of delay—ended up slaying the lover's deep desire before the actual blow could even fall.