I think perhaps...
You catch the throat
at the time of birth
of your beloved son
Than in his early youth
let him die in battle.
Deceived by false dignity
his cousin now his killer...
left this bloody funeral.
I carry upon shoulders
my son to his grave.
What think you...?
Which will be the greater pain...?
Either way as things stand
your beloved son still becomes
a child of the dirt...
_____
Poem In Pashto By: Afzal Shauq
Translated in English By: Alley Boling
Book: 'TWIST OF FATES' Poem No.152/Page.205
Web Link: http: //khyberwatch.com/nandara/index.php?
option=com_content&task=view&id=378&Itemid=1
PDF files: http: //khyber.org/books/ashauq/index.shtml
Poet's weblog: www.tolafghan.com/members/afzalshauq
© Afzal Shauq
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem