Hatam Tai passed it with caravan of gold
Laden camels. The dark clad beauty,
Like a narcissus weeping her destiny.
The Dervish in bare foot round
Took dust in hand and towards –
‘That unto whom ye falleth, be gold’.
That a ruby is picked from the sand,
And from vaults of hidden treasures,
Chambers open for them to relish
For them to take their path,
And the one who wore her the rings.
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
March 9,2015.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem