O sweet air, from across the seven seas,
On the robes of the muse’s silken knot
A nymph, bright haired, bejewel’ed eyes
Whose cloudy skirts by the wings sought.
On a small, sullen horn to breathe some
Mellow note. As oft in the midst of a twilight,
Like many a beauties whose brow resume
The pensive pleasure of a pale delight.
Spring shall pour so pure a shower
And autumn shall fill thine lap with leaves.
Snowy balm of white musings is winter,
Summers shall breathe in thine folds of tresses.
Cheers the lone path, who sleeps by the flowers,
Chill blustering winds, forbidding my willing feet
From the mountain’s side, clouds laden with showers,
The fragrant hour, views wild, for the eyes’ feast.
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
April 18,2013.
Pathway in Monet’s Garden at Giverny: Claude Monet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem