Friend, let others boast their treasure,
Mine’s a stock of pure love’s pleasure,
Safely cared for every part
’Neath that trusty lock my heart,
Safe from other women’s peeping,
For the key’s in my own keeping.
Day by day it grows a little,
Never loses e’en a tittle,
But through life will ever go
With Bāz Bahādur, weal or woe.