Classic Poem

I had devoted myself to retrieve the Pathan honour:
Then choice the bands of warriors I had collected,
Would that I could die slain by another's hand in battle!
Rather that than as a Tiger bitten by a mad dog.
Many and vain and useless are my regrets,
Every moment as it passes brings its griefs;
At one time joy is with us, again trouble;
But either passes by at Heaven's decrees.
All the thousands who mustered round me in my dreams
I found scattered far and wide when I awoke:
Some are dead, and some, though live, are parted from me;
Lonely I wander where the Hills alone hear my complaints.
Yet, though slain my noble warriors, my manhood was not forgotten;
For in place of each, twenty lives of equal value did I take.
Were but lengthy life allowed me, and fortune on my side,
Dire should be the vengeance I would bring upon my foes;
Slain should be the grown-up, bound the children, burnt their cities,
Plundered all their goods, not one should escape my bonds.
When I destroyed Naushahar, I let Kohat alone in peace —
How great was then my folly that I acted thus?
He who treats the base well, what is his reward?
To those distressed, what good has thy kindness brought?
Thus another year is passing by, Khush-hal;
Wait and see what Heaven has yet in store for thee.