Night

The sun has long settled in the West,
There is the sound one could want less.
The sound of contentment, songs of love,
The cooing of happy doves.
Why does this sound so sadden,
The caged ones, wishing their hearts not so laden?
When one wishes for contentment,
The banquet of others is not their enjoyment.
Oh Allah, why one’s heart pains,
To hear the words of love that is not their gains?