Oh planets!!

All philosophies
All assumptions
Are baseless but
It is true that in the world
There is no substitute for
A favorite person

Those who hug and cry
Are not given advice

From the frightened faces
Don't ask
How many deserts have been crossed

Withered lips do not hold the good news of spring

Those who sleep and wake up untimely
Do not understand the hours of the day

The interpretation of dreams of unripe sleep is not found

Those who suffer separation without guilt in love
Are still searching for the answer
Who started the breakup?!!
Who established its principles?
Who trampled on the laws of love?
What section of the law applies to the unfaithful?
Why is there no code of conduct for love?
Why
Its constitution is made from the pain of lovers!!

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How can I hide the secret of sorrow, what should I do with wet eyes?
What should I do with the heart's burning, what should I do with the liver's burning?

Although the stranger is a companion, he is beautiful in the gathering
Then he took me there again, what should I do with the delight of seeing?

Where is the uproar of love, and where is my simplicity
What should I say to your beauty, what should I do with my gaze?

Let not grief pass through the heart, let the night of union pass like this
All this is acceptable, but what should I do with the fear of dawn?

When my condition was worse, you were not aware
After death, the effect happened, now what should I do with the effect?

He extinguished the desire of the heart, he showed their glimpse
But say, what should I do with the "encore" of desire?

I did not find any connoisseur of your eloquent desire
Now tell me what should I do with your presentation of skill?

Thank you for reading

Poetry

Have you ever thought about the thoughts that arise
From the softest cells of our minds?
They transform into imagination,
Flowing through arteries and veins,
Reaching every corner of our bodies.

Clenching our fists tightly,
We grasp the pen between our fingers,
Pressing our thumbs into the pads of our fingers,
And write a piece of literature.

We sit in a comfortable chair,
No pickaxe in our hands,
No bricks on our heads,
Yet we go through such a labor of creation.
Our bodies don't tire,
But our hearts do get weary.

All the writers in the world,
Say the same thing, even when they are exhausted:
"We are laborers!"
"We are laborers!!"

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Nasir goes around saying, "It's better not to listen to anything"
It's better not to get involved with a madman's words

What was yesterday is not today, what is today will be gone tomorrow
If you get simple food, be grateful

Tomorrow there will be no more strength, the blood will cool down
For God's sake, young man, do something while you can

Who knows what the season will change, there is no certainty of circumstances
It's better if you join us on this journey

Where are you going dressed up and with your hair done, for whom?
The night is very dark, dear, it’s better to stay at home

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it

Bertrand Russell once said that an 'unhappy person' generally carries a lot of deprivations in their personality from childhood or early life. These deprivations are such that could have been easily obtained but were not, such as love, attention, security, basic necessities, etc. As a result, when they reach a certain stage in life, or as soon as they step on the first rung of independence, they waste their lives in pursuit of the very things that they could never get, and this exhausting effort deprives them of other sources of happiness around them.

Since the 'achievement of happiness' has shifted from central to secondary goal, deprivation remains where it is, as he was neither happy in the past nor is he happy in the present.

This is the reason why a majority of unhappy people are found in our society. You will see seemingly smiling faces, but there is a void inside that can never be filled.

Let go of what you couldn't get in the past, learn to be happy with what you have.

Flowers are filled with colors, the new spring breeze blows
Come on, let's go, so that the business of the garden can go on

The cage is sad, friends, say something to the morning breeze
May the mention of the beloved be heard today, for God's sake

Sometimes the morning starts from the corner of your lips
Sometimes the night is fragrant with your hair

This poor heart has a great relationship with pain
Mourners will come in your name

What has passed has passed, but the night of separation
Our tears will fix your fate

No path seemed right
If he leaves the alley of the beloved, he goes towards the gallows

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Pages of an open book keep turning
Days keep changing, whether the wind blows or not

There is only one destination, fear, and nothing else
As we keep climbing and descending a few stairs

Pain pierces me like a touchstone every day
As the stitches of the body come undone from the soul

No place in the desert has ever stopped
As the mounds slip from under our feet

These are loaves of bread, coins, and circles
They catch each other throughout the day

The eyes are filled with such fragments of the night
When there is light, we blink our eyes

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If you lean against them, you will weep
Whenever you dress up to meet someone,
You will weep

Your promises, my friend, have ruined me
In such a way

That if you betray someone again in life
You will weep

I know my love
Will also devastate you in such a way

That on moonlit nights, now if you meet someone
You will weep

Remember in the pouring rain
My eyes will torment you

Whenever you pray at the shrine of a saint
You will weep

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To those whose sorrow I couldn't share, I apologize
To those I couldn't be of service to, I apologize

The sick who longed for my arrival
I couldn't go to them, I apologize.

I'm ashamed that my shoulders couldn't bear the burden
To those whose coffins I couldn't lift, I apologize

From where they departed without meeting me
Those I couldn't embrace, I apologize

They are truly dear to me, heart and soul
To those I couldn’t tell yet, I apologize

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Clinging to the crumbling wall of the heart, we wept,
For flowers were not found, we wept against the thorns.

A building was constructed by the people of the world,
Seeing it fall, all wept, clinging to the architect.

We regretted leaving your lane,
Among the residents of the lane, two or four also wept.

We went to the market with the desire to sell ourselves,
At the act of self-selling, the buyer wept.

Those who came also shed tears on the corpse,
Those who were ours wept, clinging to the mourners.

There came a moment when we wept a lot,
The beloved of the heart had left, so we wept, clinging to the sweetheart.

We know nothing about you,
We just sit, weeping near your court.

The company of the beloved was not found, when we did,
All passersby wept, clinging to strangers.

The righteous finally turned away from us,
We sinners, wept, clinging to the sinner.

He embraced me and stabbed a dagger in my back,
Till the last breath, we wept, clinging to the traitor.

Thanks for Reading