Dirge Of A Bleak Pauper Poem by Shaikh Mahmud

I feel as if my soul is lost between the lines of solitude and despair,
And my heart wanders amid the turbulent thoughts of mind.
I feel to cover my entity with a mask and hide its gloom,
It has given up on the prevalence of hope.

I feel leaps of burden carrying on my weary chest,
And the masses of guilt burying me deeper, shroudless, inside the tomb of repentance.
Oh! Is there a sacred being; is there a nightingale to this darkness,
Or is there no solace left for this hermit…

Oh Lord of the seven skies, guide me to the ally towards such a sanctuary,
Where no deception shall exist,
Where no illusion shall persist, and where no blasphemy shall resist,
And where only probity prevails.