Waking up every day to the switched-on lamp
Her eyelids barred, her dreams unbarred.
Casketing her emotions aside safely,
Wiping the black teary eyes herself,
Last night she just forgot to.
Dark was the feeling, bright was the day
And even brighter was her phiz.
The desire to change, but nothing to change.
How could she do that?
Because encaged was her heart.
She felt the city as free as a bird,
She was timid, and what else could she be?
She thought it was beautiful,
And how bad could it be?
More than a wreck,
To a lass like her.
How worse could things be?
To a damsel like her.
She never knew a world outside her
And how could she know?
Because encaged was her heart.
And those little parchments of feelings,
She kept folding them in her lap.
She lived up to brim, but that was for the world.
Inside out she was neither half
Nor that full.
And how could she be?
Because encaged was her heart.
That big house,
Was not big for her,
Big were her reveries,
And bigger were her choices
But how could she choose?
Because encaged was her heart.
Shimmering was her heart
But who could discern
What was beyond the breasts?
Impalpable was her passion,
Because encaged was her heart.
She could hear the cuckoo,
Cuckooing to its brim,
She could feel the bird,
But not be the bird.
Once could, she feel,
But how could she feel?
She ought to know,
She is not to know.
That once, could she feel
But she was not to feel,
She was to be,
The bird she saw
Cuckooing to its brim.
But then again, she felt,
How could she be?
Because encaged was her heart.
Fatima, it is beautiful. She felt the city as free as a bird, She was timid, and what else could she be? She thought it was beautiful, And how bad could it be?
What a sad piece of poetry regarding a woman's life. Made me cry.
A great start with a nice poem, Fatima. You may like to read my ars poetica named as (Poetic Sense-1) Thanks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How could she do that? Thanks for sharing this poem with us.