O saffron flower! sitting in silent meditation
And radiating the fire of youth,
Many a famed beauty swoons
Seeing your amazing, flaming form.
All guts have run away,
Leaving the field for you,
Like the stars hide themselves
When the sun ascends the heavens.
You were the last to arrive,
But proved the lord of all.
All lovers of flowers have arrived
To pay their homage to you.
O saffron flower, have you ever
Thought of the plight of one
Who nursed you, made you bloom,
And has been your friend in need?
He guarded you on every front,
Undeterred by the blazing sun,
Saw that no animal, big or small,
Ever harmed your steady growth.
Right from his birth till now,
He has been your devoted vassal,
Though he stands worn out, his face
Dark, disfigured, patched and peeled.
Sorrows have given him pallor,
Dust covers his slender frame.
Couldn't you, in kindness, spare for him
A little of your rosy hue?
You'll soon be moving all over the world;
But how on earth could you
Forget your dearest friend,
Now grovelling in the dust?
Mahjoor, why came you so early?
You could have delayed your arrival,
So that people could flock to buy you,
Like they buy saffron flowers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem