This loneliness, in the arch of skies,
Measuring each step, the sunflower;
Against the winds, blowing, the gems of sands
To his face. A wanderer’s dread and despair.
The lute is accompaniment to the music
In the echoes, of shadows,
A voice, in languor, a song so mesmeric
The moon is dancing, stars in throes.
The candle flickers on the night’s demise,
The morning, rising from the dew
Cold, silver, drenched with chemise,
In joyous spring, buds and bosoms grow.
O rose, you are sick, for the sake of love,
In your heart. What anguish you bear.
Much tread with happiness you strove;
What an invisible moth, you harb’or.
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
March 5,2013.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Keep it up Sadiqullah I like this poem