O life, only difficulties stood in your way,
I, not gave you the joy or jubilation
Nothing in my hands that I will heal you, God is shuffling my cards.
Should I end you O life, or shall you wait for the spring winds
O life mine, the lines of your hands belong to hardships,
the joy was always alien to you
I know you have been persecuted.
Wait for the spring winds
combat the dolefulness, like a warrior
Will you endure this seemingly sempiternal pain?
Think not you are a looser, surviving the pain belongs to a winner.
You are thirsty of the fragrances of blooms
I know, the grief of blossoms in you
but the garden my dear, ran by the wild winds
Wait and the sadness will perish away and the blossoms shall bloom for sure,
O life, will not you wait—
Like Yunus inside the stomach of a whale?
Muhammad Imran is an author and co-author of many books, hails from Tral Jammu and Kashmir, and pursuing bachelor’s degree in science.
