A gust of melancholy went by,
Remember
When you and I,
met under that cloudy sky.
We sat together in the library,
and then went on a walk,
that night when the old birds watched,
us talk,
and the rain drops found excuses,
to kiss your cheeks.
In all my walks from class,
to that bus stop,
where we met last,
I hope to find you,
someday.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Zafar Qureshi. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.