In A Rainy Day I Became A Thief Poem by Akhtar Jawad

Sitting in the room an old man on an old arm chair,
Watching the clouds the glasses of the closed windows,
Wiping sweats in the artificial touches of ceiling fan's air,
Waiting for diverged light in seven colors of the rainbows,
I forgot myself, forgot the pains of my back and my knees,
So much inviting was the dance of green old trees!

I wished to throw all but threw only my shirt and the trousers,
Ignoring my growing pains of aging just in the undergarments,
Forgetting all the doctor's prescribed precautionary measures,
Once again I responded to the call of instinctive indents,
Ran out in lightning and thunders, followed by the heavy rains,
My probable losses countered in advance by so many gains!

For the body, touches of cold blows and kisses of showers
And the same for the heart too hot like the burning fires,
I became dunk when I saw the ecstatic colorful flowers,
What of me, the whole god ship I saw insane in desires,
Beauty unveiled itself in steps one by one during the dance,
Life was, life is and life will always be a risky romance.

"Come back in the room, with the grand children, like old men."
I ignored her as I had ignored one day my loving grandmother,
Time was reverted, I played with mud, danced with my grandchildren,
Rains stopped, rainbow appeared, smiling face of a kind lovely mother,
I send a flying kiss to my mother, she received it, and it's my belief!
Came back with the stolen childhood, in a rainy day I became a thief.