You housed Jalaluddin Muhammad Al Balkhi Al Rumi,
in the suburban. Tamerlane waited
on your gates, expecting the grace
of drinking blood, thirsty than
the adobe walls and writing his name
in the botehs on the capitals of columns.
We heard of Bactrian camels
fierce, adamant on breaking each other’s necks
Balkhi sheep, brown, tall, fat with thin legs.
Zarathustra, Buddha, and a statue
Of Kanishka in arms and gown.
A saint in the company of angels,
a miniature penned with gold-ink.
Ruin across, a silk-route halt
of battling horse, like carcass snatched.
Like in sport now, as you run with the ball.
Like yet from behind the wall
a prostrating beauty praying unto God, lest
the changing hands of time, may keep the honor intact.
-On the city of Balkh, Afghanistan.
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
May 14,2014.
Buzkashi, Balkh 2013, photo by Laura Salvinelli @ Laura Salvinelli
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