the little clay lamp
with oil and lighted wick
is silently throwing its light
but someone in envy
isn't happy, burning
his heart in misery
do not mind, keep going till
you see the oncoming light.
- -
diyā ḳhāmosh hai lekin kisī kā dil to jaltā hai
chale aao jahāñ tak raushnī ma.alūm hotī hai
NUSHUR WAHIDI
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem