Me not so dim-witted as to paint my room
with heavy daubs of colour in oily skin,
a cobweb upon a barren heath,
dampened in the rain forest;
whence the horse rider threw a nous of light
to catch up with the moon!
the cat still purrs at the citadel
of her good old days in the cellar barn,
darkened by a dreaded night;
along the crow that sits and broods o'er,
the nurslings of country rhymes,
long hath vanished in Hades of a star.
(C) Naveed Khalid
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All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Saturday, April 12,2014 2: 22: 11 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem