Of ready drawn arrows to count I
my reckoning days more bright,
covered with snow in stardust of Supernova;
away from e'ery wanton look to my eyes so blind,
that crow's quill at Minerva's golden brow,
ah, but to thee suffice at sunset of the evening sky,
this world of thy most high deserts
against that forfeited dark in Hades of a star:
oft by thatch-eaves is run as marigold in autumn,
of cut-out tree in the rainforest my woe-begone love
to e'erliving memory of laurel wreath thy myrtle crown.
(C) Naveed Khalid
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All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Tuesday, March 10,2015 10: 11: 01 AM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem