Austere and restrained
‘Simple, silver and straight’
A night’s dimple
A day’s sun shine
On a line like written on
Wooden tablet. A calligrapher’s
Soul translated into movements.
The nib, made from an unripe reed
Dipped into ink-pot baked from mud.
A child’s scribble, neither
Voluptuous curves, nor
Embellished ends, nor signs on staff.
The mystic’s circle, and in imitation
Sufficient part, an incomplete whole:
Shadowed, riveted on autumnal
Beauty –faded, alive and weathered.
Not engraved on marble, on epitaph
Like a sultry afternoon, a dusty sunset.
Reddened moon of the desert
Shiny stars in dewy dawn.
On a straw mat
Holiness is not tinsel gold
Relishes on the poverty of soul.
Devilish riches, for whom? Who knows.
A camel’s ride, a goat’s bleat
A patched tent, enough paths metaled.
Brick and mortar
Disillusioned, a house is made.
Ah! What wealth you seek
In abandoned homes, deserted streets
The bride’s foot wear, an infant’s cap
Of beads. Whose? And sold,
For what want.
The Oudh seller, rosaries of zaitun;
On the way back
Coffee with helwa
Water, extra virgin olive oil,
Hot bread and long sleep
Tomorrow the sun-god would rise upon hopes, again.
-Brooding upon the cover, title and font (Pakistan Normal) of ‘A Forgotten Song’ and some other events.
Courtesy: Sonja Smolec
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
October 22,2013.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem