Death Of Integrity Poem by AFFAQ NABI

O little kids of present day, I'go not to sleep,
Because a little joy and little hope remain;

The arbor's sweet splendor is fallen deep,
Lies lean—and unto whom but God complain?

Painted birds no more with their varied hue
Descend to sing amid the burning bowers;

Over the course of time all fairies flew,
And with them took away the joy of early hours.

The reverence of old, and infant grace,
Once cherished treasures, vanish one by one;

While strange devices hold the youthful race,
And veil up the radiance of the rising sun.

Ah, a heavy loss! Time's murky employ—
The death of integrity, and with it Joy.