The Gallery Of Melancholy Poem by Mohammad Mohi Uddin

Melancholy; please! Don'tsleep on my matrimony's bed,
Don't take place in the decorated drink's glasses; across cups in the showcase.

Please! Don't draw your specturm portrait over the bride's Bangles.
Don't touch my son'sbrought new dress.

All the stuff is messed on the woden hanger;
Shampoo, Soaps are covered into the basket over there,
Please! Don't get-in-touchtoo here.

Don't crave your name on the stove of soil in the kitchen,
Please! Don't touch the pitcher's water; throw your sight on the book's rakes.

Listen! Don't raise your voice on the TV screen; or make sound from radio stations.

Please! Don't establish your home into the pen's tip; or into the heart of papers.

By allusion of morn; Don't set your tumid emollient on that floor I depend,
And place my footsteps,
Because with your touch all of the moments will be wounded.

If you knock and shake on the pages of Calendar,
Days and dates will escape, without informing, at the last part of night.

Please! Don't keep your vision at my cherub lady;
Because golden mistress will turn into the patient of Leprosy.

Don't embrace my readable statue of record,
Will form into worm-eaten rustle's wood.

Waking up; I realise -
Bed, Cupboard, Pitcher's water, TV and my goldy lady seem a set of acre of melancholy;
As if my hut is the gallery of melancholy!