Saleh Badrah Poems

Each wrinkle in his ancient face
Bespeaks a monumental deed.
Serenely there with pride he sits,
No longer longing to succeed:
...

It's fruitless in this bleakness to seek zest
Or cheerfulness to brighten up your gloom:
For what bird here will ever build its nest?
What fragrant rose in here will ever bloom?
...

My soul stood up today and said:
Your heart is full of sorrow.

I know, I said,
...

Nan-in, the sage, one day received
A guest who'd come in search of wisdom.
...

For things of beauty
constantly am I searching,
despite the bleakness.
...

John Clare once declared
That he's The Bard of Flowers:
His poems prove it.
...

Once, on a green hill,
I met a sweet daffodil:
Lovely was her smile.
...

Two slimy rats
Crept into my room
And started nibbling
Sniffingly at my stuff.
...

Little bulbul at my window,
To what purpose are you singing?
Can't you hear the noise and clamour?
Can't you sense the disaccord?
...

The mind is like a running brook
With mud and precious gems replete:

To spot the gems, stir not the mud;
...