Classic Poem

O, thou saddened heart of mine! many troubles hast thou felt:
All that was dear to thee is gone, thwarted thou in all thy hopes.
Gone the time of Spring and Flowers, Winter's shades have come upon thee;
Thou, who erst was full of vigour, midst the aged now thy place.
In thy garden, where once were the songs of many nightingales,
Now not a single one is heard—only cawing of the crows.
The boat, that once with thy strength thou forcedst over mountains,
Sinking, wanders here and there like a straw amidst the currents.
The Lions, which were in terror of thee amongst the rocks and mountains.
Fearless roar around thee now; nay, the Jackals join too yelping!
Thou, who once wast sheltered in such fair and costly dwellings,
Now a filthy hovel thine, that is all that Fate has left thee.
When shall I wake up again? What awaking is hereafter?
Alas! Alas! why has fortune been so fickle?
Old hast thou become, Khush-hal, be thy gaze now on the Heavens;
For of what account is life to thee? What its worth or value now?