Classic Poem

All the friends are prepared and ready to move on
Many have already left, the remaining are also ready

O wind of springtime! Don't annoy [me] and move on your way
You intend to play whereas I feel wretched

Because of feebleness I feel, for hours together
To rest wherever I find the shadow of a wall

Is it a new manner of coyness you've learnt [O my sweetheart! ]
Or else you've sat besides me a hundred of times

O Insha! Who gets respite from the turns of fortune!
It's blessing indeed that a few friends are still with us!