My friend, in shared sorrow, will you truly tell,
If, till my wounds have healed, my nails shall swell?
From absence, a grave of eye and heart's despair,
Someone, oh, someone, explain this, I dare?
If the "No" has cast us in its hold,
Well, so be it, this madness, its grip, will it unfold?
Why should the tresses, like chains, flee away?
Bound by faith, from life, will we turn and stray?
"Grief of love," says the world, "is all that's here,"
"Grief of love," says the world, "is all that's near,"
Asad, we’ve refused, in Delhi we reside,
Will we then, still, from sustenance subside?
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