Thank Thee, O Good Lord, for Thy grace, That with time we forget any woe. But what troubles me doesnít melt, As if itís the perpetual snow. It doesnít melt even in summer, When I burn with the heat... And I know well that this trouble Will be ever with me.
© Akbar Muhammad. Translation, 2009
(akbarmuhammad.awardspace.co.uk)