Treasure Island

Shahida Latif


The Fifth Season


Though the world is hazy obscure,
Smoke envelops its spheres,
Humanity grapple, wrestle for minor causes,
Blinded by the ghosts of impatience,
Intolerance has pushed into the marshes,
Yet I see the world glaring gorgeous,
The gentle winds bring flakes of white clouds,
The first shower emits the smell of earthen scent,
The fresh flowers bloom at each moment,
And with their brave colours,
Make the world magical enchanting,
The sweet melodies of the birds,
Come through the porches of the ears,
Trickling founts produce silvery chink,
The whole world seems,
A compact composition of symphony.

But I know well these components,
Are very rare in the world of civilized savagery,
Now spring, autumn, winter and summer,
Are devoid of their grace, elegance,
It is merely the fifth season that I experience,
The flavoury season of the heart.

Submitted: Thursday, August 03, 2006
Edited: Saturday, August 21, 2010
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