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Sadiqullah Khan

The Dew

The dew will not be dew
If separated from the rose petal
Into water will it melt, like tear on the cheek
Into her languid look, the eyes in deep sadness
As if she has been crying in secrete
What saddens her heart that her lips have turned red
The sadness coming out of those red lips
Like laughter, like fresh spring water
O! the pain of my heart

[Hata Bildir]