Grief is hard upon me, Master, for she has left me;
The black dust has covered my pretty one.
My heart is black, for the tomb has taken my friend;
How pleasantly would go the days if my friend were here.
I can only dream of the stature of my friend;
The flowers are dying in my heart, my breast is a fading garden.
Her breast is a sweet garden now, and her garments are gold flowers;
I am an orchard at night, for my friend has gone a journey.
I am _Majid Shah_, a slave that ministers to the dead;
Abdel Qadir Gilani, even the Master, shall not save me.
(Edward Powys Mathers)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Friendship Poems, Flowers Poems, Grief Poems, Garden Poems, Slavery PoemsBased on Keywords: shah, gilani, qadir, abdel