Why were we always happy with the absence of sorrow; why did we repeatedly turn away from sorrow;

Who knows what life was? It was just what we kept on thinking it was.

.

An impatient lamentation almost came from the lips;

Who knows what she said with her bashful eyes.

.

The innocence of love is expressed in this single manner of gesture [her smile];

We even became shy of the kind glance of the beloved.

.

A lost captain, silent atmosphere, a quiet wave of water;

And near the shore, we went on drowning.

.

That air, those clouds, that atmosphere, and her memory;

We continued to play the saz of the heart with the plectrum of grief.

.

In short, this is our life-story:

We throbbed with pain all our life for the sake of the heart’s comfort.

.

O Jazbi, we went all the way on the path to the destination in this way:

At every step, we fell; at every step, we recovered.

.
            1931

.

From:  Firozān̲ (Resplendent Things). ʻAlīgaṛh: Anjuman Taraqqī-yi Urdū (Hind), 1960. pp. 32 – 33