احساس جي اکين مان سپنا ٽمي رهيا هن.
جيون جي هاڻ ڇن مان صدما ٽمي رهيا هن.
گهمندي رهي حسينا دل جي زمين تي ٿي،
منهنجي اندر ۾ رم جهم جلوا ٽمي رهيا هن.
وچ واٽ تي مسافر ٿڪجي سڀئي سمهي پيا،
منزل جي پر اکين مان رستا ٽمي رهيا هن.
برسات ۾ اچانڪ محبوب ڌار ٿي ويو،
لفظن جي ٿي شهادت نختا ٽمي رهيا هن.
چهرو حياءَ ۾ هن جو ڳاڙهو ويو آ بڻجي،
سهڻي جي اڄ ڳٽن مان بوسا ٽمي رهيا هن.
سڀ ساز چپ آهن ماڻهو وڄي رهيا هن،
فنڪار تنهنجي فن مان نغما ٽمي رهيا هن.
Poetry of Shahmir Soomro
Translated by Nawab Ali Rahoo
From the eyes of feeling, the dreams are trickling.
From the hut of life, sorrows are trickling.
The stunning lady is walking around my heart’s land,
Inside me drizzling feelings are trickling.
In the mid of the journey, the exhausted travelersfell asleep,
From the eyes of destiny, the ways are trickling.
During raining the beloved parted ways suddenly!
The wordswere martyred, the dots are trickling.
Her face has become red in modesty,
From the cheeks of the beloved today, the kisses are trickling.
All the instruments are silent, the people are shouting!
From the art of an artiste, the songs are trickling.