Ode 8 Poem by Ahmad Shiddiqi

This drear illusion weighs, where is it dwells
My truth of spirit, what veil of stunning spells
Ah, yet these crowns, though hoary with the woe
Where thostles chant and expressions responsive flow

Now here is an ode by our village poet
Whereas, and one with half an eye hear it
The tongues that nothing say, nothing ask
With fingers that folded are from every task

Learned lessons by Corazon Aquino, her eyes reveal
O dear, no passionate yearning, no perplexed appeal
Strike fuller chords, or let the music rest!
And banish midnight-glories from thy breast!

In moon or rainbow, the flocks roam far and free
How bizarre her meadows stretch from mountain to sea
Should a chance sigh or sudden blood-dropp move
In the Den Haag which time hath wrought on love