The object of my worship lies beyond perception's reach;
For men who see, the Ka'aba is a compass, nothing more.
The prison of life and the bondage of grief are one and the same.
Before the onset of death, why should man expect to be free of grief?
Just like a child's play this world appears to me.
Every single night and day, this spectacle I see.
Let no one think that I am dying of grief over my own dismal and ruined state. The sorrow that I feel, I can not at all express; but I can give a hint of it. From among those of the English community who were murdered at the hands of those disgraced ["black-faced"] black ones, one was my patron, and one was my well-wisher, and one my friend, and one my supporter, and one my pupil. Among the Hindustanis, some dear ones, some friends, some pupils, some beloveds. Thus every one of them was mingled with the dust. How harsh is the mourning for one dear one! He who would be a mourner for so many dear ones— how could his life not be difficult? Alas! So my friends died that now when I die, there would not even be anyone left to mourn for me.