Naveed Saraf

Rookie (Baramulla)

Of Cries That Are Heard

and reaped in green terraces;
and sighs that make the pen sweat,
and the nails labor in drops of seeds;
beneath the tangled curls,
Lo! They trembled in pain.
And as the day died,
and the fearful shadows
passed through the drooping train,
see, those cries cometh with tears

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