Four dejected sons,
Shouldered a catafalque,
Of their deceased father,
Each propped the corner,
...
(Written on the sad demise of Haji Khalil my friend)
He was my friend,
Who ever defended my cause,
...
The shades of my wall have begun,
Merging into the dusky Anchal of Eve,
...
(Written By Iqbal Tariq Translated By Muhammad Shanazar)
Let the sun arise a bit,
Many tears of mine,
...
The birds do not stopover now;
The desolate tree of my yard,
...
What a massive calamity leapt on you!
All around is the clattering doom,
...
The hewn tree, tall, thick and green,
Casting soothing shade, clear and clean,
...
(1)
Oh, Crescent!
Be blessed with the moments pleasant,
...
Poems are the sparrows,
Swing they branch to branch,
...