My gracious self
My soul to your soul
Is like the staired wall,
Of mud and stone
Oak wood and aloes straw.
My gracious self
My heart throbs
Beneath these walls,
Be it a cold morning
A rainy day, a mellow sunset.
My gracious self
I have heard
There are palaces,
In paradise on streams
Rich in milk and honey.
My gracious self
Such a haunt
Such is the lament,
Many a tears, many a dreams.
My gracious self
Such is my awe
A history of empire,
Of blood and valor
On a tongue like a fairy tale.
My gracious self
As I stare into your eyes
And listen to your songs,
And narrate your story of love.
-To an unknown place in Wana, South Waziristan.
Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
May 18,2013.
Image: A house in Wana.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem