(1216) Bujhi ba amar diirgha jaminii
My drawn-out night, could it be
At long last it's reached an end?
With new color has come morning,
Leaving me overwhelmed.
Gone is the night blanketing everything;
It had held sway for ages many.
Gone is the lightning with its sudden streaks,
Making bosoms heave, a-quivering.
Scrapped are those who were creatures of darkness,
Needlessly creating a commotion.
Serpents' froth does not poison the air;
Lifespans are not devoured by hooded fangs.
In the lively glee and shining light,
Mind's chukor,[1] it gets satisfied.
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There is nothing static about it.
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