My boy, let this waking hour pass ere you know
of scarlet-jewels that masonry's night,
amidst the heraclitean moutain at the salt-beach mine;
sticks out his head like a soring thumb impression
to my mind still against bloody tyrant time
as marigold in autumn by the west wind,
of emerald eyes, my love, beyond the sunrise,
long hath fled from this dark, dreary world forlorn:
a last kiss goodbye to my shipwrecked dreams
of untread places far-off to our new-found ancestors,
that crow's quill of winding stair above a fire-hurst,
down that road to e'er melting snow in haystack of woods.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2015.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Tuesday, May 05,2015 3: 17: 31 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem