Sar sar-tor arrives the Majnun,
On Layla's heart, burned blood red.
You mocked them all,
You, who are cloud and rain
Dust and rock, music and musician
Far and close, stem and rose
You the forward wind -
Who bespoke the time's limit
The historian's ink to scribe.
Yet it shall expose its beauty
The little buds have eyes on garden.
Unless you are gone formless,
Your form shall never appear.
Unless drowned, you do not learn
To swim. Unless you break the walls
You will never erect new.
The vain pride, if not buried
Shall loom large over your head.
The past, unless you declare war
Upon. The future is not yours.
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
September 22,2014.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem