by Shamsur Rahman Faruqi
*handwritten Urdu text by the author, early 1980's*
Now I will not make it through this night.
My forehead is not stone, nor will it be.
The door will only be rattled once,
The knocking will never persist.
If there were no sun, in the city of the heart
Neither would there be such things as shadows.
Save the blood that flows from the eyes--
This time, there won't be wine in the flagon.
The fragrance of the musician's bow
No music remains
in the strings
[ab mujh se yih raat :tay nah hogii]
translated by Frances W. Pritchett
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