Stanzas Written In Dejection At Mid Night Poem by Shuaib Saifi

THIS night's also fallen like every day,
Bright stars are twinkling in the sky,
A deep silence is spread all the way,
Except some obstinate crickets cry.

Some rover dogs seldom begin to bark,
If find any movement in the atmosphere,
As if they were the city's guards in dark,
Keeping it protected from any bother.

The moon shines in its full might,
Crosses the airy-road to the west;
Pouring down on earth a milky light;
Creeps stealthily with no rest:

The entire world is lost in sleep,
Being tired of the whole day's run;
Some infants seldom awake, play and weep,
Olds jokily say their joys in it are hidden

I'm who even today has no calm, no rest.
Someone could tell me about them,
How's their color? how's their taste?
These kinds of thing to me never came.

Yet the things faced by me at this place
Are heavy pains, the black sorrows,
The breaking failure, the deep gloominess;
And the mouths hit at me, the toxic arrows.

Here has been only autumn for years,
I saw not even a single spring-
But the weather of torrential tears,
People say many returned coming.

All the limits of pain I have kissed,
Have been ruined never to restore:
Death is not only when the breath is missed,
See me! having it seem to be no more.

Each part of body's affected by wound,
I see the wounds on my body in a map; -
I've been entirely diverse to this ground,
These have given me such a unique shape.

I‘ve nor health nor confidence nor wealth,
As the time of woes and pains here I pass;
Feels as if I'd committed lots of stealth,
This Jail does trouble me a lot and harass.

At such a cruel turn of Time I do stand,
Where neither some life's start seems to be,
Nor seems to be any sign of End-
Where my being is like a live-dead body.

This is the odd point of my Journey,
Where no zeal's left for joy to celebrate,
Nor tears to weep for the borne misery,
Just keep heading having no target.

I have no fear, no worry for death,
Nor in futurity any hope for life;
In this desert I've no interest, no faith,
Just is netted between life and death's strife.

Would someone could have known the woes,
Beyond my liar smile that dwell gladly,
On this earth that are my best foes, -
Who kill me every moment with cruelty.

Would some sympathetic hand might come,
Touch my hot head of a huge tension store;
My red eyes might, that are so tiresome,
Begin closing slowly, and open never more.

Around me there will be a giant crowd,
Some will sorrow and some weep,
Some upon my cold body put a shroud;
When I'll be taking a never-breaking sleep.

For a blissful life I'll have no complaint,
Nor for a painful death having no stops;
The only thing my soul will deeply lament
Is I could not keep someone's hopes.

There was never ever calm in the open eyes,
Nor yesterday nor any other day:
Even after clossing no such a sun will arise,
That could make my impatience decay.