My colorful evening has turned pale and faded because of whom?
Because of whose hands?
My colorful evening has turned pale and faded because of whom?
Whose hands did this to me?
When the goblet of my heart shattered in my hands because of whom?
Oh, whose hands caused this?
Oh, my heart, who will ever embrace your sorrow?
Oh, my heart, who will embrace your grief?
How will anyone
embrace this pain?
I am being remembered as the disgraced one in the entire village
because of whose hands?
The stains are visible on my dust-covered clothes,
my tattered clothes clearly show the marks
Yes,
the marks are plain to see and yet I accept
every accusation upon my head and eyes
But for whose sake, oh,
for whose sake have I accepted this blame?
This section uses the poetry of the legendary Sufi
Rama and Baba,
why don't you look at me directly and fairly?
Why
do you pile more grief upon one already burdened by sorrow?
If Adam had not eaten
the forbidden grain of wheat,
why would he have been exiled from paradise?
I,
Rama, blame
myself for being a lover,
but why does the rest of the world call me a sinner?
Because of whom?
Oh, because of whose hands?
Shamala,
there is no sleep and no comfort because of whose hands?
My colorful evening has turned pale and faded because of whom?
Because of whose hands?
And when the goblet shattered in my hands,
of whom?
Oh, because of whose hands?