They come to see us
In the company of winds and rains
Their whispers are heard
Besides the doors
And empty corridors are filled
With the shimmering garments and scented bodies.
Leaping over the walls, slipping down the roofs and sun shades
Walking with voiceless steps like the shadows of clouds
Eyes see them crossing the silence
Of half paved courtyards
Far from reach
Moving towards measureless distances.
The windows yawn with mouth agape
And ponder on that;
Overthrowing the earth, nestled comfortably on its breast
Looking triumphantly towards the sky
These mountains, beyond them
There must be a lake
And birds and nimbus clouds
And thickets of trees running into each other
Uneven grassy plains
Herds of sheep and lonely shepherds
And pathways running far away
There must be some village, some city
Or some other country
Where some other poet (like myself) lives
Demarcation is easy on parchments
A few dots and lines delimitate
Mountains, rills, streams, sloping grounds
Fields, settlements, jurisdictions, ownerships and regions
Passes and secret paths
Even forts and battlements with rows of iron - clad heads
Can be drawn.
But while pointing out the shadows overstepping the walls
Extending to doors, windows, courtyards
And the silence spread up to the remote recesses of the hearts,
The sun and rain change their hue
On the ground plan.
(Translated from Urdu into English by Prof. Ghulam Jilani Asghar)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.