Apni ma bahnon ka bhii aankhen churaanaa yaad hai

Aisi duniya mein kisi ka chhod jaanaa yaad hai

Byaaġhbaan to qabr mein hai kaun ab dekhe bahaar

Khud usii ko tiir us ke karne vaale hain shikar

Jab nazar aataa nahiin detaa koi bekas ka saath

Zahr ki shiishii ki jaanib ḳhud-ba-ḳhud badhtaa hai haath

Dil tadap kar kah rahaa hai jald iss duniya ko chhod

Chudiyaan todiin to phir zanjiir-e-hasti ko bhii tod

Dam agar niklaa to khoii zindagi mil jaaegii

Ye nahin to ḳhair tanhaa qabr hii mil jaaegii

Vaan tujhe zillat ki nazron se na dekhega koi

Chaahe hansnaa chaahe ronaa phir na rokegaa koi

Vaan sab ahl-e-dard hain sab saahab-e-insaaf hain

Rahbar aage jaa chuka raahein bhi teri saaf hain

Dil inhiin baaton mein uljhaa thaa ki dam ghabraa gaya

Haath le kar zahr ki shiishii labon tak aa gayaa

Tilmilaatii aankh jhapkatii jhijaktii haanptii

Pii gaii kul zahr aaḳhir thartharaatii kanptii

Maut ne jhatka diyaa kul uzv dhiile ho gae

Saans ukhdii, nabz dubii, hont niile ho gae

Aankh jhapkii ashk tapka hichkii aaii kho gaii

Maut ki aaġhosh mein ik aah bhar kar so gaii

Aur kar ik aah sulge hind ki rasmon ka daam

Ai javaana-marg bewa tujh pe Kaifi ka salaam

A Widow’s Suicide

This dark night when the entire world is fast asleep

When every leaf and twig is lost in the tableau of silence

The ocean of darkness is in turmoil and the gloom is filled with tumult

The lantern in the sky has been snuffed out since evening

The few stars that are about look lightless and dull

Like wilted flowers in a stale garland

The clear light of the moon is submersed in the clouds

Like enthusiasm that has been buried in disappointments

Are they dark clouds amassed to drown the world

Or is it a widow with open hair crying as she walks

The hamlet is as desolate as it is densely populated

Every alley is silent and every path deserted

No news emerges from those who inhabit these houses

The lattices are downed and chains bar the doors

All the old and young in the house are asleep and oblivious

Beauty and love have stopped whispering to each other

Yes, but there is a mourner in one distant corner

Tossing and turning on her bed, her heart sinking

A heart that won’t stay in a breast with a hundred gashes

A face like a flower is smeared with the ash of widowhood

The colour on her face gone like a frail life with a limited lifespan

The heart and soul of death hold her youth in its grasp

Unfulfilled desires die in the embrace of despair

A thousand reproaches quiver on her silent lips

Her years are not ready yet to worship the dead

This living corpse is a burden for a wronged life

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t control her heart