The snares of deceit of tomorrow’s paradise have broken;

Life is ashamed of its hopes; 

The festival of spring’s arrival has long ended in the garden;

But the glance of the rose and tulip is still sad.

.

Hot whirlwinds continue to dance in space; 

Wine-jar blood flows on the horizon;

What’s the use of the shining sun and light 

When now every house glares darkness?

.

Space is thinking: What did Adam’s son

Get after throwing his reason away and putting his madness to the test?

The same failure of desire—the same sorrows of Time; 

What did Life’s beloved get after squandering everything?

.

Glances strayed in the expanse of the void

And the houses of the charming beloved could not be found;

The long road ended, but 

Still we cannot find the purpose of our journey.

.

O friends fated to travel onward, keep on marching.

The old guides will not turn and look at you;

The death of the stars comes with the rising dawn;

The darlings of the night will not look at us.

.

From: Talk̲h̲iyān̲ (Bitternesses). Dihlī: Panjābī Pustak Bhanḍār, 1963. pp. 167 – 69

Nayā safar hai purāne cirāg̲h̲ gul kar do is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970