by Mohammad Iqbal

With what words shall I call you
Desire of the nightingale’s heart?

In a Country of Roses
You were named Laughing Rose

Morning breeze your cradle
Garden a tray of perfumes

My tears rain like dew
And in my barren heart your ruin

An emblem of mine
My life a dream of roses

A reed plucked from its native soil
I sing sweet songs of souls in exile

Translated from the Urdu by Rafiq Kathwari / @brownpundit