I'll not by such voluptuous acmes be moved more
than this world of cut-out trees in the rainforest,
ah, but to spell them thy name of hair-knots
of virgin mother born all woe be mine,
that man-in-the-moon under the hedgerow of a cottage-tree,
of e'ery departed look to my shipwrecked dreams,
so blind of eyes ere I breathe thy last,
though first thought on thee be made to wear out soon,
that fades away in Hades of a star, not least to weigh the air:
of fair weather days in the mellowing spring,
you desire increase in counting prayers still haunts my head,
of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown at christmas eve,
that bewailing night asleep thy most high deserts,
shall of thy befitting garment this skin-tight dream,
pay homage to the sun at sunset of the evening sky,
e'ery flower upon a barren heath in rosemary garden.
(C)Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C)2016.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Wednesday, February 17,2016 2: 38: 54 PM
Wednesday, February 17,2016 2: 39: 44 PM
Wednesday, February 17,2016 2: 40: 22 PM
Wednesday, February 17,2016 2: 46: 18 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Written with poetic flair. A skillful use of vocabulary. Well penned.