Sitting on grass
I watched the sky
‘T was bright and blue
With an extent so high
Early morning it was
Dew was falling on my face
Freshness flowed
Purity paced
Refining the ground
The gardener went by
He said salaam
And nodded I
Sounds of birds
Their cheers of joy
Hovering above
They caught my eye
Dwelling together
Was their innocent chore
I held my breath
My spirits soared
The next blink though
The white turned black
The flock dispersed
To escape the attack
Down the hawk sped
Seized a little one
The rest promptly deflated
Yet scared was none
Hawk flew in rounds
With its prey in claws
Then the birds put to play
A plan free of flaws
Converging upon the hawk
The birds flew above it
Pinching their tiny beaks
They made the hawk quit
The hawk flew away
Releasing the little being
The birds rejoiced
Once again cheering
Their frisson of success
Is a win ne’er to fail
How love and unity
Give strength to the frail!
dear hareem, i am sure this poem if written in your own language would have been a magnificent one. i dont quite get it in english. i would love to read it in your language. i love rumi and there is a touch of rumi here.
Their frisson of success Is a win ne’er to fail How love and unity Give strength to the frail! Just awesome! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great story. I like the layout and it's stanza structure.. well done