On the blind spot, drinking tears
Measuring a loss spread over
In diminutive, reclusive lone life;
Is heart a kettle on fire, steaming
Is distance measurable in miles?
Many times, the sun rises, and the
Moon, completes its cycle to fullness.
Names of flowers, little birds,
Who hath given them, and why we
Do not remember them, call them so.
The sea had been leaping its waves
On the banks, and rivers flowing
Since time immemorial, souls lost.
The decades of life have been
On the blind spot, measuring a loss.
Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
December 21,2013.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wah zabardast shairi! I say dis is a great philosophical poem and u have pictured d imagery wondrfuly in words. Kya ap meri latest poem pe coment karenge pleez.