I saw a lady on a road crossing;
Her limbs had for long been slowly melting.
She was a leper; her sores were leaking;
She was though living, death she was seeking.
Torn off was her saree she was wearing;
In her very bad plight she was begging.
By chance, on that crossing I was passing;
I felt pity seeing her suffering.
To a Hindu shop I went for buying
Vegetable food pure for her feeding.
When I offered her that food nourishing,
I found myself grieved by her questioning.
“Are you a Muslim or Hindu being? ”
Was her quest at which I was wondering.
When I replied, “A Muslim God-fearing.”
She did not take that I was offering.
Why to accept it was she unwilling?
In pensive mood I went on pondering.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem