While a Sufi is busy in his retreat,
Sitting alone, doing the mystical exercises,
His people get killed by a powerful nation,
On regular basis in the world;
And the sufi keeps on dancing,
And clapping his hands,
While listening the Chhakri and Qawali;
And this goes on for decades and centuries.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem