The whole wall darkened up to the roof;

The roads were extinguished and the passers-by went off;

Again, my night began to talk with its loneliness;

Certainly, again today my meeting [visitor] has come

With henna on one palm and blood on the other;

Poison in one eye, balm in the other.

.

For a long time, no one has come or gone from the house of the heart;

In pain’s separation, the flowerbed of the scar has been without water;

To whom should I say that the wound cups should be filled with colour?

And then my meeting came of her own accord,

Friendly death, who is an enemy as well as a sharer of sorrow,

Who is our executioner, our beloved as well? 

.

.

From: Dast-i tah-yi sang (Hand Beneath the Stone). Dihlī: ʻAlīgaṛh: Ejūkeshanal Buk Hāʼūs, 1979. pp. 51-52