I Hear The Mourning Mothers Poem by Mohammad Younus

I hear the mourning mothers
in the darkened valley,
I see the crimson red brooks
flowing -raising a furore,
In the villages and towns
they pass through,
On their sullen and sulky banks,
The fallen red-chinār leaves rustle
by the harsh wind,
The moon and the sun giving out
a pale shine,
This tormented valley is my native land,
I still recall my old peaceful days
Consistently tears trace two lines
down my face,
Would that they reach the ocean and
rise in a high tide,
On a full moon night to the onlooking God,
So that the Watching God might take a pity on...
...this wretched land

Mykoul