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(4 August 1944 / Sialkot)

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Think it over, my love,
For the journey of decisions
Is never soothed by
The soft shadows of words.

No pain is more painful than
The pain of remorse.

Think well,
Of the fears you may have,
About traveling with me,
Set them out in your eyes,
And know it well,
Time is barren desert
With no return.

New scenes obliterate
The seasons of yester-years.

The gust of breeze,
That creased your hair
Some while ago,
Is gone and dead,
Its being or not being
Is meaningless for you.

Have you ever thought?
How the existence of life
Is linked with the living being?

This is the time my love,
To understand the link
That binds us together.

For the fears you may
Have about traveling with me,
Take a break on this crossroad and
Set them out in your eyes,

For every bond of your hands,
Is still well within your hands.

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