So Intense - Poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Half asleep besides you I lay
My ending recompense I sway,
I hold the cup to no one but myself,
On your autumn I may, on your winter
I stay, O spring, be the summer's prologue.
A long await, and we shall play,
The reed long ago separated, O my song
My flute, O stringed heart, in dreams sing.
If I could only, and only if I could
Borrow your grace, an honor taketh me along
To the damp morning's rise,
To the dryness of dusk. Afternoon
Your delights could be no more in extense
Nor your tranquility a bliss so intense.
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