Let not young souls be smothered out before
They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.
It is the world's one crime its babes grow dull,
Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.
Not that they starve; but starve so dreamlessly,
Not that they sow, but that they seldom reap,
Not that they serve, but have no gods to serve,
Not that they die, but that they die like sheep.
Courtesy: Marycharles Meserve
Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
August 22,2014.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem