Spill From The Cup Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

Spill From The Cup



You had the spill from the cup,
Page was ash and words aflame.
Inebriation, mystic chant and drum.
Friends and foes, be the cup bearers,
Pulpits would need firmament's strength.

Red was color of the rose and tulip's
Heart red. Nothing other but wine red.
The enchanted self like zephyr returned.
Love's mysterious fables unwound,
The solitary lover like wick burned.

What magic, the tongue would speak.
The calligrapher's hand would it mold.
The sculpted damsel, was a memory,
To the wall, wide eyed beauty hung.
When all was ablaze, love he sung.

To an unknown poet of Pashto language.

Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
February 7,2013.

Saturday, April 13, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: love
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
One of the treasures lost in the Titanic in 1912 was Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, with elaborate jeweled binding, by Sangorski and Sutcliffe, reconstructed later on.
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