Intrigue
When wind was lifting and playing
With her soft thick hair
Her light-flashed eyes
Gave a cheerful stare
I was too close to her
And leaned to scratch my head
Out of queer uneasiness
My face turned red.
Sun was over my head
Glazing the whole yard
For no reason at all
I got nervous and feared.
Staggering flights
Of some wandering sparrows
Shuddered me from inside
And deepened my sorrows.
Her silent eyes
Seemed to reassure
Another fatal wound
I might endure.
For God’s sake
I am not telling lie
I could not understand
The language of that eye.
That night I listened
The cry of an owl
And I could believe well
That her love is not from soul.
I fell absurd
But she was delightful
She befooled me
But her art was wonderful
Really, I became
A victim of well-played intrigue
It gave me nothing
But an awesome fatigue Shakil Ahmed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Queer uneasiness my face turned red. I know that feeling. Beautifully expressed