On the far horizon waved some flicker of
My heart, a city of suffering, awoke in a state of
My eyes, turning restless, still dreaming,the morning, dawning in this vacuous abode of
In the wine-cup of my heart,
I poured my morning
Mixing in the bitterness of the past, the poison of the
On the far horizon waved some flicker of lightfar from the eye, a precursor to some
Some song, some scent, some unbelievably pretty facewent by unknowingly, carrying a distressful
Mixing in the bitterness of the past, the poison of the presentI proposed a toast to the longings on this day of
To the fellow drinkers of my homeland and
To the beauty of the worlds, the grace of beloved's lip and cheek(Prison of Lahore Fort, 1959.
Taken from the collection:
The hand under the stone)Translation by Hamid Rahim Sheikh
