I went and turned anchorite-such is my case, such my situation-
My sole worldly wealth this broken bowl within my hand, and a coverlet of rags.
Behold the unfortunate! see what manner of meretricious acts they commit!
They all desire prosperity; but prosperity is evanescent, and continueth not!
I will become a sacrifice unto him, who hath made the world his sacrifice;
But let him be an oblation unto me, who hath become an oblation unto gold.
There is nothing whatever in it-there is a great bustle in an empty shop:
When I duly considered the matter, I found it all mere fancy-a phantom-a dream.
One is being laid in the cold grave, whilst another, at home, sitteth unconcerned;
Then there are three days of mourning; and on the fourth, the case is changed.
With hands placed to my ears, I flee from it, that I may escape therefrom;
But others grow wretched after it-O God, what a dreadful plague it is!
What hast thou to do with others? show resolution for thine own deliverance;
For thou, O Khushal! art entangled therein-alas! what a net of calamity it is!
(Khoshal Khan Khattak)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, World Poems, Sadness Poems, Dreams Poems, Home Poems, Gold Poems, Art Poems, Money & Wealth Poems, Mourning PoemsBased on Keywords: meretricious, continueth, it-there, it-o, fancy-a