Nor did the paradise
come down,
Nor my inflicted flesh
Left the shadows
of my bone-cage.
Neither was the self hung
by tongue,
Nor they who drank
my ashes dry.
None has seen me
here and there
So how? They know
I have turned into
a dove.
Thus the knowing is
an illusion, still
the unknowing but
I have made human hunger
a virtue,
and desire is smitten
by a holy chant,
by an easy lot
you may get my advice
of your personal sort.
Do remember
few of lessons
my wonderings conclude.
To a spirit here
and here alone,
For I pray
You be better being human.
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
July 17,2014.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem