Growing with grapes,
Reflect the tapes,
In helpless dreams,
Their flowing streams,
From a valley so green,
The grapes I preen,
No juice for the wine,
But the wrinkles shine,
In a loose thicker gown,
The grapes are brown,
The gone greenery,
Changed the scenery,
The raisin is dry,
Its taste I try,
Viscous is the juice,
With me on a deuce,
A delicious game,
O God! In your name,
Neither love is a shame,
Nor it's blame,
Sweeter than the grapes,
Raisin dances in the tapes!
With the growing age love is sweeter than what it was in the youth. A lovely metaphor.
sour grapes wine sweet and red grapes red wine We all have a bottle as we dine all sweeter grapes are mine ask Divine they within my heart entwine lovely ones like oranges kind I love grapes red and wine
A wonderful poem that captures the intricacies of aging. Yet aging comes wisdom and a blessing. Happy are those who blessed with a long happy life. Liked the two closure lines. Despite the wrinkles it is still the sweetest. A beautiful poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
O God! In your name, Neither love is a shame, Nor it's blame, thank u dear Akhtar....... grapes and raisins.. you have presented a thought in a new and original way. thank u dear poet. tony