The Mist Poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'

The mist was thick, the sky clouded;
The bus which I took was crowded.
It was afraid of gaining speed;
It was moving on with great heed.
The air was shedding drops of drew
Which were felt, but came not in view.
The sun did not open his eye;
You also know the reason why?
I was sitting on a side-seat;
The mistful scene did my sight meet.
But something I realized in it,
Hidden, implied and implicit.
Lo! When I exercised my thought,
A piece of lore from it I got.
Our soul like the sun in the mist
Is veiled, when great sins we commit.