(a film on Kashmir by Sanjay Kak)
The kite transforming into smoke lacing
The chinars is not a symbol.
The rose has migrated from the garden of paradise.
Freedom will never come
Poured into goblets waiting to be raised,
Martyrdom is a handout from god the hagiographer.
Only poetry of ruins is real.
The incoherent rose still blooms
From some beloved breast torn open.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem