To lose heart to some one he did not know, how1 grief is held dear he knew not so. He just fanned breath in his dusty frame, save eat and die he had no aim.

My heart so restive is fleeing from me, so wan and puzzled though, is yet at sea. That ‘Heaven’s outcast’ is better of me, we hear about ‘Haq’ whom he did see.

I donned big circles on a likewise night, like moon’s own rounds I have lessened my light. Thy negligence tales ensued when, in midst therefore, I get up then.

Knows not the Gabriel this hue and cry, he knows not the status of quest and pry. Then ask the poor man, who is hapless still, who knows the sting and nectar1 of will. (The central thought is that Man’s status is higher than Angels’ as angels are not gifted with man intrinsic faculties.)

The sky seldom sees alike this age which hurts the heart of Jibreel, the sage. What a good temple there he makes, whom ‘momin’ adores and ‘Kafir’ fakes.