Petra Poem by Iftekhar Bukhari

Petra
After crossing
many oceans, many deserts
jungles and downpours
the emptiness of so many mirrors
moments or centuries
my loneliness converged into
your loneliness
O city of crimson flower!
O great beautiful rock!
I am not after any treasure
where, tied to its peg
a reddish horse is standing erect
in the sleeplessness of
twenty-three hundred years
What I need, is just a bit
of your melancholic night
so that my silence may
talk to your silence
I have a tale to tell, full of remorse
the ancient moon, after listening to it
will shed the tears full of sand,
so that your woeful roses
may get plenty of water
The shreds of the times flying fast
the futility of the ages long lost
the skeletons hanging in
fraudulent closets of the history
will find me truthful to the core
the meditation peeping through the scratches
on the ruined walls will not break
O rose city!
I am a voiceless story-teller
asking for just a night to spend
on your rugged door
I'll give away to you
my heart, which is just like you
a rose made of stone
I'll tell you a silent tale
of a time long lost
far from the sinful gods
in the purity of meditating darkness
undaunted by the final laughter of
the eternal dawn!
(Translated by Kamran Awan from Urdu)