Fitrat Ne Na Bakhsha Mujhe Andaisha-e-Chalaak

Fitrat Ne Na Bakhsha Mujhe Andaisha-e-Chalaak

Fitrat Ne Na Bakhsha Mujhe Andaisha-e-Chalaak
Rakhti Hai Magar Taqat-e-Parwaz Meri Khak

On me no subtle brain though Nature spent,
My dust hides strength to dare the high ascent.

Woh Khak Ke Hai Jis Ka Junoon Saqeel-e-Idraak
Woh Khak Ke Jibreel Ki Hai Jis Se Qaba Chaak

That frantic dust whose eye outranges reason,
Dust by whose madness Gabriel’s rose is rent.

Woh Khak Ke Parwaye Nasheeman Nahin Rakhti
Chunti Nahin Pehnaye Chaman Se Khs-o-Khashak

That will not creep about its garden gathering
Straw for a nest, un‐housed and yet content.

Iss Khak Ko Allah Ne Bakhse Hain Woh Ansu
Karti Hai Chamak Jin Ki Sitaron Ko Arq-Naak

And Allah to this dust a gift of tears
Whose brightness shames the constellations, lent.

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