His name is Sharīf. He was for some time a roster-keeper, and now holds some appointment in Bengal under Sharīf Āmalī. He at first assumed Faiẓī as his poetical name, but when Shaikh Faiẓī submitted a complaint to the emperor on the subject he abandoned his pretensions, and chose Sarmadī as his poetical name. He has some poetic genius. The following verses are by him.

“Since the sword of the coquetries of that haughty
beauty has been raised,
Spectators from afar have stretched out a hundred necks
to receive its blow.”

“When thou camest to my house with the fumes of wine
in thy head and roses under thy arm
The very dust of this house of grief put forth blossoms
to see the sight of thy arrival.”

“Since in contempt I set my foot upon both worlds
Neither joy nor sorrow has had any power over my
heart.”