Favorite Poetry #1

I have been insomniac as long as I remember. Even when I read this in standard ninth’s syllabus; I could relate to it.

maut kā ek din muayyan hai

niind kyuuñ raat bhar nahīñ aatī

Mirza Ghalib


موت کا ایک دن معین ہے
نیند کیوں رات بھر نہیں آتی
مرزا غالب

My humble attempt at translation: The day for death is definite. Why does sleep elude all night?

Shabana Mukhtar

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