Page:The Diwan of Zeb-un-Nissa.djvu/96

 Behold the pages of my book of life! Blotted its record, black with sin and strife,
 * As if the woe of all the world should be
 * Ever pursuing me.

O Makhfi, from this goblet thou shalt gain No exaltation, no surcease from pain;
 * For tears of blood that flow from eyes grown dim
 * Fill it unto the brim.