Life with the strong rope was tied, And twisted just like the jute’s wisp, Through fire and water passed life, Dead beaten with the pitiless whip. Life walked in the rich rustling silk, Made noise in the sumptuous messes... Then calm took the place of all this, And came to be rest in white dresses.
© Akbar Muhammad. Translation, 2009
(akbarmuhammad.awardspace.co.uk)