Hear ye not full-throttle song of a thrush,
that in thy graceful ease,
of cherubim wing her beauty's fair;
shall but sing in melodious accents I, I,
of glorious days her love of old,
all wrapped in shroud of a star
o'er the wall on high,
of eyes so blind beyond the sunrise:
no light can e'er illumine in wilderness of pure heaven;
her enchanting slogans of disparity
to my mind still by the sweat of thy brow,
of snow-capped myrtle in rosemary garden;
some shadow fell at sunset of the evening sky,
ere I beheld that wrecked boat upon the sand dunes,
subservient nature's most ardent desire,
at midnight lease in waking hour
half-deaf, half-dumb to the ear,
above a hawthorn, sticks out his head
like a soring thumb impression.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2015.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Tuesday, June 30,2015 11: 38: 24 AM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem