When gone...
I pride myself
thinking...
I would be
held dear by my people
Whenever...
The broken graves
sadly...
I gaze at
I feel of little worth
My value...
merely pennies
because...
those now dead
valueless to my nation..
that known to be a marshal
_____
Poem In Pashto By: Afzal Shauq
Translated in English By: Alley Boling
Book: 'TWIST OF FATES' Poem No.168/Page.226
Web Link: http: //khyberwatch.com/nandara/index.php?
option=com_content&task=view&id=378&Itemid=1
PDF files: http: //khyber.org/books/ashauq/index.shtml
Poet's weblog: www.tolafghan.com/members/afzalshauq
© Afzal Shauq
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem