LXXXV: I went and turned anchorite--such is my case…

I went and turned anchorite--such is my case, such my situation--
My sole worldly wealth this broken bowl within my hand, and a coverlet of rags.

Behold the unfortunate! see what manner of meretricious acts they commit!
They all desire prosperity; but prosperity is evanescent, and continueth not!

I will become a sacrifice unto him, who hath made the world his sacrifice;
But let him be an oblation unto me, who hath become an oblation unto gold.

There is nothing whatever in it--there is a great bustle in an empty shop:
When I duly considered the matter, I found it all mere fancy--a phantom--a dream.

One is being laid in the cold grave, whilst another, at home, sitteth unconcerned;
Then there are three days of mourning; and on the fourth, the case is changed.

With hands placed to my ears, I flee from it, that I may escape therefrom;
But others grow wretched after it--O God, what a dreadful plague it is!

What hast thou to do with others? show resolution for thine own deliverance;
For thou, O Khushhal! art entangled therein--alas! what a net of calamity it is!