How do you know my love,
That from the ashen face of morning,
Before the tender fingers of the early golden rays,
My ruffled mind was on the night's ravaged dream
All the lights were gone, and there was no sign
Of a rainbow. How do you know my love!
That from the wheel of day and night,
I escaped into twilight.
The warmth of the early hospitality
In front of the little caged rooms,
I wanted to crawl, obiesing a sacrifice that they
May get up happy. They my neighbors, -
And how do you know my love,
That the tired tiny darts, humans were collecting
Garbaged consumptions and a woman
In an obvious attempt to retain her air of dignity,
And some children, some others with white caps.
How do you know,
That the call to prayer, blasts in my ears,
That from my open window, although I hear
Bird's sing, stones sharp, and struggling grass,
Live-ing. How do you know my love,
That the close-lipped books, of ancients
Await a spill of my blood, a reflection of my vision.
That, a day I was chased by terrible loneliness,
Running, gasping I entered the coffee shop.
Ah! And I dined with her, I befriended her,
I took her by the arm, we walked under the trees.
I was gazing at your milk-white face,
And your coal-black eyes, -by that time you had gone.
Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
June 1,2014.
Keep it simple @ An Early Morning Walk
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem