Book in this metre
This page shows only poems in the metre فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلن (رمل مثمن محذوف).
We are foes to ourselves, and friends to him who slays us; we are drowned in the sea, and the waves of the sea are slaying us.
Behold, those birds which lay golden eggs every morning saddle the swift colt of the skies.
Last night our elephant remembered India again, in frenzy he was rending the veil of night till dawn.
I have come to lay my face in the dust of the Beloved’s feet, I have come to beg pardon for a moment for my actions.