Poem in archaic Hindi by Amir Khosrow O’ Khosrow The river of love flows differently He who gets out, is drowned; he who drowns, is saved The path to the well is very difficult How shall I fill up the jar from the well? When I went to take the water, in the haste, my jar crashed. O’ Nizamuddin Awliya! I have succombed to you Save the honour of my bridal veil I am dumb, deaf and mad My clothes are...
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