I can’t say where you’ve come from,

Or who you are, but I feel your face is familiar.

.

Your face crushed in dust, but attractive;

In your eyes a faint smile; in your heart, a twinge of pain;

Sticking to your feet, the dust of moments gone by;

In the slit of the front of your garment where it buttons, the freshness of deep sorrow.

.

Unable to say anything when asked what was wrong, 

You said nothing; it was only that nothing had happened; 

You were walking on the road when you stumbled and fell; 

Only thorns stuck and the sleeve was torn.

.

I remember that you met me the first time

In a story written by no one anyone knows,

And seeing a man of this type,

I thought to become friends with him today.

.

        1959

.

From: Nayā ʻahdnāmah (New Testament). ʻAlīgaṛh: ʻAlīgaṛh Buk Hāʼūs, 1965. p. 108