Paths are hot on my trail
And eyes...... as always they do......
Behind, far behind
Are nailed to apertures in the door.
My mom has furrows
Criss-crossed on her time-worn face
And like a dot sans word
Unaware of my own import
I am gaoled in the abdomen
Of starving books.
If one were to look
Into sisters' eyes at the moment of parting
One would know
How deserts are changed into oceans.
Do you remember
You had said at separation
When the dreams of journey
Spring forth from lines of the palm
To become the fate of my feet
Two eyes......as always they do......
Behind, far behind
Will be nailed to the apertures in the door.
And that moment
(you had said)
Will be the last link in our contact.
(1980, Translated By Dr. Satyapal Anand)
The love of family (expressed through the eyes) never leaves you, no matter how you travel. This imaginative, beautifully crafted poem shares the bitter-sweetness of parting and expanding distances. 'Nailed to the apertures of the door' is a particularly compelling image - with its reminder of Christ on the cross. An exceptional poem. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
nice imagery i liked it so much keeap up th e good work and i invite u to take a look of my humble poems!
This is very good i love how you can truely picture it all in your head!
i really enjoy reading this one.. keep writing good ones :) .. best wishes Angeline
Wonderful use of metaphor and imagery. So long as we can keep our loved ones in a poem, distance is indeed a gift we give ourselves. Beautiful, my friend. Kind regards, Sandra
really penned with mastery all through the lines...10 from me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's very hard to recover the distances of the journey Nasir and your great poem seems to be an itinerary.