He was a Sayyid of Kābul. In the year H. 981 (A.D. 1573-74) he fell from his horse in Jaunpūr, and died of the injuries which he received. He wrote a dīvān, and the following chrono­gram which he composed on the death of a graceful boy of rare beauty, named Sulān Caghatāī, is well known.

“Sulān Caghatā was the rose of the garden of beauty,
But death was his guide to the garden of Riẓwān.*
In the season of roses he set forth to journey from this
garden,
Many hearts in mourning for him were drenched with their
blood.
I asked of the mourning nightingale the date of his death,
He broke into lamentations and said, “The rose has left the
garden!”*

“How shall I compare thy stature to the letter alif, O palm- ¹⁸⁴
tree of life?
For alif is quiescent* while thy graceful form is ever in
motion.”

“My heart in thinking on that sweet mouth is in the straits
of perturbation,
Perturbation has confronted it from the place in which it is
bred.”

“Never do I forget thee, possessor of all sweet attributes.
Though thou forget me, yet do I never forget thee.”

A Quatrain.

“For the proof of His existence what need is there of words,
Since He is all in all, both of what is manifest and what is
hidden?
They tell me to open my mouth in denial of all that is apart
from Him;
But what shall I deny? Where is there a trace of ought
that is apart from Him?”*

Another Quatrain.

“The juggler who sits on the prayer-mat of the blue expanse
of sky
Shines in the morning with the mark of piety on his face,
At midday he straightens himself up in prayer,
And when he, the leader of the prayers, made his inclina-
tion, the rest prostrated themselves.”*