I had been living in the nights on the rusty edge
I saw the black linen of the dark slip by my hands
I was feeling the tenderness like wings of butterflies
I did not look to the stars and the static moon
Then I had been waiting like I did last night
Like a bird you passed over my head
You are the sprit that I would like to see through
You are the innocence that I would love to dine with
I had been dreaming of the dead for many nights
I was as if I had become like them
I had also been dreaming of savory dinners
I had also been traveling away from home in the evening
My little dinner was small of things
Savory in feel and delicious in taste, luscious to sense
I wish I had not told you to leave earlier this afternoon
For another dinner tonight smaller and full of surroundings
On Nosherwan's visit to my place
Islamabad
Oct 21,2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem