Each grain
Of life’s harvest,
Is parched,
In the oven of distressed.
Insipid mornings and frightful nights,
Breath-bound together.
Ferocious cat of the by-gone moments,
Tear may bluechethermic body,
With their scimitar sort of teeth,
Flying dust of time,
Buries my body in the past
I am certain,
Tomorrow, when
The ruins would be excavated,
And my petrified body cleansed,
It would be displayed,
Before the amazing eyes.
(From Urdu into English by B. H. Nazim)
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