Tuesday, 14 June 2011
What else is there for me...BY Hafiz
What else is there for me to do
but to sit here and cry?
I wouldn’t wish this sadness
on even my worst enemy.
You are far away,
and day and night I lie grieving.
And why shouldn’t I,
when my heart says there is no hope?
O Beloved, where are You?
Since You left, my heart has become a fountain,
and blood is pouring from my eyes.
From the root of every eyelash trickles
a hundred drops of blood,
and from my heart pour gallons more!
Hafiz has become a slave to this grieving.
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