A hundred year’s slumber and my quill,
Like glow-worm flew, ink-pot sailed,
Escaping perpetrated avalanches, as if.
After long awake nights the sun shone,
Like friends who return to time and space
Away who slept there, a century or so.
Sadiqullah Khan
Gilgit
September 2,2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem