In Malberee Poem by AFFAQ NABI

In Malberee

It is a pleasant morning, the waves are dancing
Fast and bright, everything in life gives
It's proof: a quail sings her ghazal above in the ring.
And an old grove eagle is
coaching
His child the bravery amuses of the airing.

I walked forth, listening to some Hungarian music.
And latterly, I sat for rest in a tree bower far
I beheld a ploughman in his flower form.
Then a fair Maiden walked fast in the outer part
Of field like a vernal butterfly, tray laden
When her silken scarf was waving out
Of her golden hair coloured dye.

And the ploughman gave her a loud voice:
'O! Cheri cheri!
Keep my lunch down in the old mulberry.
Let me finish this half field,
and tell me a fairy tale
But if it is very lengthy, then lay the sheet; and you must hurry,
'I would go to bring water from the Berry creek.'

'O! Ma belle! sit quietly, like a mirroring moon.
'Walking towards her pleasant fields every afternoon'
When the ploughman returns from the creek
She was waiting for him with her eager eyes
Like a shimmering pool, later he took her
To a nearby small boutique
and I start
My way, thereby hurrying with the hill breeze.
While the summer's sun fell to knees, I return back
With sweet memories of their hermitage
Pasture, flock, aesthetics and few mysteries.