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I

·1 min
Writing

Who is that is I

Still lost in my mind.

Trying to find my purpose,

When there might not be one.

The first thing was writing

Can words truly change anything?

Why should I write,

When there is so much noise

Are you in that house,

Or are you out here.

I will give up now,

This desert is just too vast.

My voice will not reach you,

Is this even a language.

What is music when there is no rhythm.

Why should I write,

When I have nothing to say.

Wrote this poem long time ago, it seems it is still applicable.

Related

A poem by Mir Taqi Mir

·1 min
Writing Translation
Translation: my English rendering of Mir Taqi Mir’s original. Stop crying, this is just the beginning of love. Hold on and see what will be next. In the morning, there were voices in the caravan. Let’s move on and let the sleeper sleep. On this ground nothing can grow. Please stop planting seeds of hopes in your heart. These are marks of true love, they remain forever. It is not possible to wash them away from your heart.

A Poem by Mir Dard

·1 min
Writing Translation
Translation: my English rendering of Mir Dard’s original. It was a school or temple, or was it Makkah or a church. We were all guests, only you were the host. Oh! How sad it is. I found just before death. It was only a dream, what I saw. It was only a fairy tale, what I heard. How sad it is that autumn is in the garden. There was some grass, which was my friend.

A poem by Allama Iqbal

·1 min
Writing Translation
Translation: my English rendering of Allama Iqbal’s original. You are neither for earth nor for the heavens. The world is for you; you are not for the world. This garden is the place for pain and prayer. Not for picking flowers or building a nest. How long will you stay in the rivers of Ravi, Nile, and Farat? Your ship was built for infinite oceans. It was nothing, what we have exaggerated.