I often wondered,
The eternity's cruel hands,
Would just leave in memory.
Through the eyes like water spring,
Reflect with tenderness,
Words you would blow with soft
Murmur, as a soothsayer.
We drank from your generosity;
The times that we were blinded
Out of love. We saw that you made
Bouquet of the finest colors.
They are still there. They are eternal.
Like your soul. Like we all wish to be.
Of some abandoned relics,
We collected something of contagious
Beauty. We longed for a smile from you.
We still find that in the lanes,
Of memory, like roses in old books.
We will remember you.
Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
November 30,2012.
For Sandra Fowler (1937-2012) , a poet of great imagination and beauty. She had generously commented on a couple of poems written by me and my friends.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem