When my clay was kneaded, What kind of fire it was consigned into?
The fire, if I don’t put it out, it roasts me alive.
If I try to put it out, it roars into flames anew.
Moulded He all my being out of His spirit,
But let blended some devilish particles t00.
The nearer I got, the thicker He drew veils ,
When I strode to The Heaven, The Hell flung open its gate,
When I got nearer the Hell, somebody shouted me away, ’Beware! Beware!”.
Damn you! O The fire of my heart!
You spoiled the fun of life!
( Rendered into English by Aslam Mir on 17.6.2020)
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