Ashraf Gohar Goreja
Sinking Beauty Of The Sunset - Poem by Ashraf Gohar Goreja
Glittering sundown, and I was
Standing alone on the seashore
Watching ceremonial phenomenon
Of light and darkness
When tinted, red lips of timid sky dome
Slowly extended into the massive vastness
Dreadful moments of sinking glory
In the roaring water of rigorous sea
That lacks compassion, mercy and benignity
Replete the sea, even the rare charm
Of stunning beauty and it's impressive virtues
For frightening waters, were inclined to harm.
Ah! sublime is adorable and intense
Above the scattered mountains and sea
Where the sun, the moon and millions of stars
Glisten the silent and eremitic valleys
Midnight dew here washes the beauteous faces
Of innocent flowers in the dusty city's alleys.
Strong, wild and deviating winds
About to curve the prevailing clams
Created by the magistic sunset
Rare, shimmering and glomming view
Exulted spell of night and day
Endlessly follow one another in a crazy skew.
Prismatic, golden, silver and yellow scars
Appeared suddenly on the blue face of melting sky
To win the hearts of dejected lovers
Who with tired eyes, awaited for a glimpse of departing shadows
And twilight emerging into gallantry beauty
As imperishable, loyal and constant meadows.
Strong, wild winds, together with alarming storm
Perfidiously kept, roaring in a vindictive fashion
For the sunset was amazingly beautiful
Like a saintly bride of some unknown world.
Fearless from revengeful, belligerent winds
Kept amusing the impatient dreamworld.
But the winds blotted, glorious lips of marvelous sunset
With a brutal kiss, sucked the gloaming, fascinating hue
I stood deplorably, alone and in a miserable temper
With my tearless eyes, perplexed and appalled
Perceptive to the phenomenon of sinking beauty
Observing last sunset of autumn in a woeful bawled.
Comments about Sinking Beauty Of The Sunset by Ashraf Gohar Goreja
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You