"Like many of the north-Indian ashraf classes, Hali too considered Muslims to be the descendants of foreign conquerors... 'We were fire O Hind', he exclaimed, 'you've turned us into ash.'..."

"Just as the army of Alexander marched back after reaching your border, I wish we also had returned unsuccessful from your gates."

"Whither has gone the superiority of the Muslims, In wealth, wisdom and learning? Whither has gone that fixity of purpose, That knew no barrier of land or sea? Whither has gone that vigour and where are those sturdy arms?"

"Farewell, Hindusthan, land of eternal spring, for long have we, as foreign guests, stayed here and enjoyed your hospitality."

"Those who couldn't bear the weight of precious pearls and jades, Those whom a gold jhoomar seemed a weary weight, Those who couldn't carry the mantle, though of muslin made, Those who found the gauze veil hard to keep in place, These delicate dames, alas, are made to carry loads, They trudge along a few steps, then founder on the road. Those who felt irked with garlands, so slim they were and frail, Those who couldn't sleep at night with hands henna-laved; Those who whould lose their sleep at the slightest cause, If their sheet was slightly ruffled, couldn't sleep at all; Even the luxury of a pillow is to them denied, With a stone beneath their head, they would spend the night. Thus demented and dismayed, I'm forced to seek the wilds, With a stone to break my head, to beat my breast and die. Why shouldn't Azurda wander in the raging wilds. When he finds Sahbai the poet, without a fault, crucified!"

"On one side is the call of Christ, on the other is death, We are caught in a conflict, hard to resolve. Having received many a wound, for more of wounds he craves, Mark the courage of helpless Bismil, how he suffers unfazed!"

"We are now raring to die for our country's sake Let's see how much of strength the assassin can display! O traveller on the path of love, do not drop mid-way, It is the distance of the goal that glorifies the chase. It is the distance of the goal that glorifies the chase. Standing by the gallows the hangman makes a call, Come, if there be any, by the martyr's zeal enthralled. We'll tell you all, O sky, wait till he time arrives, How can we at this stage, our secret plans unveil? O martyrs in the nation's cause, kudos to your sacrifice, Even in the enemy they talk of you with praise. Fired by patriotic fervour, many a maddened youth. Has gathered at the crossing, itching for the cross. Why are they mute and silent? no whisper, no talk, Everyone that I see has got his lips locked."

"Shedding tears we spend the night in this deepening dark, Our day is but a long struggle against an uphill path, Not a single moment goes when we don't bewail our lot, Lo! we cast a lingering look on these doors and walls. Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar! We wish you well, O friends, leave you to His care, And entrust our Qaiser Bagh to the blowing air, While we give our tender heart to terror and despair. Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar! I am betrayed by my friends, whom should I excuse? Except God the gracious, I have no refuge, I can't escape exile, under any excuse. Lo, we cast a lingering look on the doors and wells, Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar! I have been told this much too, ah! the scourage of time! The servant calls his master 'mad,' a travesty of the mind. As for me, I cannoy help, but rot in alien climes. Lo, we cast a lingering look on these doors and walls, Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are gong afar! This is the cause of my regret, to whom should I complain? What wondrous goods of mine are subjected to disdain, My exile has raised a storm in the whole domain. Lo we cast a lingering look on the doors and walls, Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar! You cannot help but suffer, O heart, the sharp strings of grief, They didn't spare even the things essential for the mourning meets, In the scorching summer heat, I've no cover or sheet. Akhtar now departs from all his friends and mates, There is little time or need to dwell upon my fate, Save, O God, my countrymen from the dangers lying in wait! Lo, we cast a lingering look on these doors and walls, Fare thee well, my countrymen, we are going afar!"

"Soul-refreshing are your lips, Breath of Christ are your lips. The god of beauty, with nectar divine Has charged the goblet of your lips. Wisdom, philosophy, deep truths, Inform the utterance of your lips. With ruby-pen the lovers of your lines, Inscribe the message of your lips. The grass, the foliage, and the bloom, Forever crave to kiss your lips. My palate and tongue get honey-drenched, Whensoever I mention your lips. What an treat for Walis tongue, Morn and eve to praise your lips!"

"For years have I held converse with someone in my thoughts, For long has a pictured visage lodged within my heart. I had held it all through as dear as life, My desire will weep for me for years in the burial yard. I too once drank the draughts from the fount of life, I too slept for long in peace, sheltered by the flask. For long did I stroll about in gardens and groves, For long could I smell my rose in the roses of the park. Such a sensitive being am I, it will cause my death, For years shall that shrew regret having hurt my heart. Even if reduced to ashes, like the wind-borne dust, For years I'll eddy around questing someone lost."

"Frustration-foiled, all desires quit the lane of heart, Depression drowned my mind and soul, hope stood dissolved. Who has arrived, spring or death? Why do they open the prison gate? Has a manic made to the cage, or a prisoner jumped the wall? How to inquire about my hem, or talk about my frantic hand? Long past I lost control of the reins of my heart. Alone I reached the goal of love, denuded of desire, Every comrade fell en route, worn out at last. Fani, I'm a living corpse, untombed, undraped, Unwelcome in the alien land, exiled from home and hearth."

"فانی ؔ ہم تو جیتے جی وہ میت ہیں بے گور و کفن غربت جس کو راس نہ آئی اور وطن بھی چُھوٹ گیا"

"خُوگر نہیں کچھ یوں ہی ہم ریختہ گوئی کے معشوق جو اپنا تھا باشندۂ دکن تھا"

"Not for nothing have I fallen for "Rekhta" verse, The darling of my heart was Deccan domicile."

"شغل بہتر ہے عشق بازی کا کیا حقیقی و کیا مجازی کا"

"Ever centred in my thoughts, I resemble you alot. O, partner of the yesteryear, This year, I'm alone, alas! All day long in your lane, I, the hurtful stones amass. Who can look me in the face? I'm but your looking glass. You are the bustling street of life, I, the lonesome jungle path. The coming season shall weep for me, I'm the season's dying draught. In my wave lies my bane, I'm a river, athirst withal."

"A responsibility of great art is to capture the zeitgeist in words with such expertise that you cannot understand that period without ignoring it. In the West, T.S. Eliot’s ‘The Wasteland’ is the best example of this. If anyone made migration a civilizational experience in Urdu poetry, it was no one except Kazmi. Surprisingly, an acclaimed scholar like Shamsur Rahman Faruqi, ignoring this aspect, spoke his mind by labelling Nasir as merely a poet of the tragic tone of love and passion. The nostalgia of Nasir is not personal, but civilisational. Sample a few verses of a ghazal from his diwan (collection) and Barg-e-Nai (‘Melody of the Flute’). Does this attitude feel like it springs from the failure of personal love."

"My friends, we have seen enough of this play. We are going home, you can stay."

"دوستو، دیکها تماشا یہاں کا بس تم رہو خوش ہم تو اپنے گھر چلے۔"

"Kneeling to the idols, Momin, you have spent your life, How futile to turn a Muslim when your end arrives!"

"عمر ساری تو کٹی عشقِ بُتاں میں مومنؔ آخری وقت میں کیا خاک مسلماں ہوں گے"

"I feel as if you are with me, When company I have none."

"تم میرے پاس ہوتے ہو گویا جب کوئی دوسرا نہیں ہوتا"

"Did you ever surfeit a drinker to this heart? Bring to my lips, Saqi, lips of the purple flask. Scent-like, it cannot lie concealed behind the veil, The beauty which has tasted the delight of being unveiled. Brief is our span of life, fleeter than the lightning flash, Fated are we to finish in haste each assigned task. Whosoever I approach to unfold my heart, Comes forth at once with his own tale of woe. You haven't seen, O Dard, the world's destructive might, Flask-like it mingles in dust each drinker's blood."

"The pledge that you and I have made, you may or mayn't recall, The pledge, that is, to love till death, you may or mayn't recall. The joys once bestowed on me, those kindness galore, I remember every bit, you may or mayn't recall. Those new complaints, grumblings new, those delicious tales, That getting cross without a cause, you may or mayn't recall.If chanced we to get together, to reaffirm our faith, How we complained of our unkind kin, you may or mayn't recall. If there was aught that annoyed your heart, I always let it go unsaid, you may or mayn't recall. We too had once each other loved, and frequently did meet. We too were once intimate, you may or mayn't recall. Your getting cross on the union night, spurning all my pleas, Your insistent "no" to everything, you may or mayn't recall. Whom you counted as your friend, faithful whom you thought, I am the same suffering Momin, you may or mayn't recall."

"No one in the world has (ever) laughed, the least bit without weeping at the same time."

"جگ میں کوئی نہ ٹک ہنسا ہوگا کہ نہ ہنسنے میں رو دِیا ہوگا"