Thursday, September 20, 2012

Saif-Ul-Malook 02 Comments

Rating: ★2.7

Remembering the beloved again again, they eat, frying pieces of their liver,
Like a fruit drink, from the hands of the beloved, they drink the cups of poison.

During the night they cry continuously, washing off sleep from their eyes,
In the morning, they are called the humble ones, and consider themselves lower then everybody.
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Mian Muhammad Bakhsh
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Mian Muhammad Bakhsh

Mian Muhammad Bakhsh

Khari Sharif, Kashmir / Pakistan
Mian Muhammad Bakhsh
Mian Muhammad Bakhsh
Khari Sharif, Kashmir / Pakistan
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3/5/2026 10:38:17 AM # 1.0.0

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