I am constantly reminded of the bygone times

I am constantly reminded of the bygone times 

Those garden's springs, those chorus of chimes

Gone are the freedoms of our own nests 

Where we could come and go at our own pleasure

My heart aches the moment I think 

Of the buds' smile at the dew's tears

That beautiful figure, that Kamini's form 

Which source of happiness in my nest did form

I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage now 

May it happen that my freedom be in my own hands now!

How unfortunate I am, tantalized for my abode I am 

My companions are in the home‐land, in the prison I am

Spring has arrived, the flower buds are laughing 

On my misfortune in this dark house I am wailing

God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe? 

I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe (grief) !

Since separation from the garden the condition of my heart is such 

My heart is waxing the grief, my grief is waxing the heart

O Listeners, considering this music do not be happy 

This call is the wailing of my wounded heart

O the one who confined me make me free 

A silent prisoner I am, earn my blessings free

- Allama Muhammad Iqbal