/ http://www.slideshare.net/images/logo.gif / 際際滷Share feed for 際際滷shows by User: muntazirmehdi7106 https://cdn.slidesharecdn.com/profile-photo-muntazirmehdi7106-48x48.jpg?cb=1523547664 For how long shall i write about the anguish of the heart? Instead, I should go and show her My wounded fingers and the blood-dripping pen. Against whose playful wrtings are the words complainants? Made of paper is the attire of the countenance of every image. Still taking lessons in the school of broken hearts, That what is gone, is lost now, and what I had is mine no more. How the arrival of a flood has enraptured my heart. The lover's home was but a resonating water reed. I write warm words from the fire in my heart, Asad, Lest someone would point a finger at my words. The wound did not appreciate the tightness of the heart, O! Lord. Even the arrow came out of