Lowering my neck won't be sacrificial altar
Since long - eyes clouded with dust
Seas stopped flowing-clouds not floating
Present world defaming
No mud lamps soot blackening
Had each soul been content
Forests of mortals not grown in towns
Nations grow starvations in fields
The hungry cook no grains at home
Destined to stay in the shadows of gloom
Smouldering torches never illuminating
Goodness compacted words of muzaffer
All gatherings create not ever good
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