The Interrogation of the Dead

The bright sun is hidden, the night shows its face The night’s hair is spread on shoulders of the earth

This black dress is preparation for some one’s mourning Perhaps the Nature’s assemblage for the sun is mourning

The sky is casting a spell over the talking lip The night’s magician is watching the awakened eye

The wind current is submerged in the river of silence However, the tolling bell’s sound comes from the distance

Heart which in love’s turmoil is evading the world Has dragged me here far from the maddening crowd

I am the spectator of the spectacle of disappointments I am the associate of those sleeping in solitude’s corner

O My restlessness! Wait and let me rest a while And let me shed a few tears at this habitation

O those steeped in a swoon, “Where are you? Tell me something of the land where you live

Is that world also one of prevarication? Is that world also one of denizens’ struggle?

Is Man engulfed by sorrow in that land also? Is Man’s heart suppressed and helpless in that land also?

Does the moth burn itself in candle’s love in that land also? Does the tale of flower and nightingale exist in that garden also?

In this world a single hemistich perturbs the heart Does there also the warmth of verse soften the heart?

This world’s relations and alliances life’s woes are Are similar sharp thorns present in that garden also?

The daily bread and a million calamities this world has Does the soul freedom from anxieties in that world has?

Are the thunder, the farmer, the harvest there also? Are the caravan and the robber’s fear there also?

Do birds collect bits of straw for nests there also? Is the search for bricks and clay for house there also?

Are the humans unaware of their reality there also? Are they after nations’ and customs’ discrimination there also

Does garden not cry at the nightingale’s wail there also? Like this world is there no sympathy in that world also?

Does the Paradise a garden or a restful mansion constitute? Or does the Eternal Beauty’s Unveiled Face it constitute?

Does hell a method of burning away sins constitute? Or it in flames of fire a way of discipline constitute?

Has walking given way to speedy flying in that world? What is the secret of what is called death by denizens of this world?

Life eases the heart’s restlessness in this world Is human knowledge also restricted in that world?

Does the separated heart get satisfaction by sight there also? Are “Lan Tarani” saying the Turs of that land also

Does the soul get solace in longing there also? Is man a victim of desire to learn there also?

Ah! Is that land also filled with darkness? Or with Love’s light is completely illuminated?

Tell us what the secret under this rotating dome is Death a pricking sharp thorn in the human breast is.