In the style, your eyes could still harbor,
Immense dreams, floating desires;
Weathered, singularly taken care of,
Your dead years are alive, your merriment.
O sadness, be at bay, we have enough years,
With each other. O earth, I shall ask thee,
Gems you have devoured, bones gone mud.
Let the smiles on your face not fade,
For life is a bitch, and take her that way,
Or drink it in the cup’s bitter sip.
-On seeing my photograph
Sadiqullah Khan
Gilgit
August 7,2015.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem