All things die; what immortality fades not by years
We laied wasting our time into mere conjured decree
We lost ourselves by dainty illuminative fears
And cared little, - how city ravens fly upon air free.
That reign, that could have been high or low
Was obliged by ransacking utterances of freedom
To descend; Mughal or British who had not woe-
Although they had azure skies of chilling dome?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem