I have seen with your eyes
the Helen of Troy, madness of Achilles
and ink that wrote Iliad
my lung full with waft
of the first papyrus and
I am treading on the ruts of wheels
that transported Athena to the
bethel made of reverence,
stone, necessity and time.
Today acrobats of happiness
are somersaulting in the large tent of heart,
heart that had cowered into a log cabin,
a tragically tattered one
where loafing wind would terrorize
the dwarfs of hope while
Sleeping Beauty of a new day slept on.
So I would read Alef Shafak's 40 Rules
or watch all episodes of Ghalib
in late afternoons when onions
are blushing in pots
and silence has established its authority
and life has been transported to schools
doors of chapels have been bolted
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow Rehan, this poem made me feel comfort and it has taken me to another place and time and still in silence of home and comfort and aroma in the air, moment of happiness. Beautiful!