The Slippage - Poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Top it up, O dancing urn!
Thou art the moment’s fractuous count,
Her lips pout, the Saqi’s eyes are drunk,
Hands twingle, her hair love making snakes.
Float the joy, all else but lies,
‘Like water I came, like wind I go’.
Quiet and let the grace take shape,
Lest not the slippage of your tongue
Her song deter, her steps detract.
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