Expresses the 18th Century Sufi poet Khwaja Mir Dard the deep sentiments of his romanticising with death. The English translation needless to say loses a lot of valuable sentiments but nonetheless, something that I felt, I should share with you as it communicates the deep emotions and sentiments of futility that each one of us experiences in romanticism with death.
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I put on myself,
many a blame,
before I left ...
for I only did that
for what I came,
before I left
Is this life,
or a rough storm
I suffered,
in this life time
that I lived
before I left ?
Gentle breeze!
What's my business
with blossoms ?
I left in a flash,
as I came,
before I left.
I had come
to this world alone,
nothing in hand
I carried the world,
all the same,
before I left.
Saqi !
It is time to leave,
hurry up please
fill my cup - let me drink,
be aflame,
before I left
Dard! Can you tell me,
who we are -
you and me ?
I knnew not
from where I came,
nor I knew my aim,
before I left ?