I'll write, I'll write thee more so
what is hid from thine eye,
and all things of beauty, great and small,
are in the world of a vanished sight;
but you in whose presence this verse,
I can never bring to light,
a borrowed face of the sun,
that in the beehive, of cherubim wings,
bespeaks a glory of the mind
o'er all else that is not real,
nor a shadow in the mirror
can ever reflect thy love.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2013.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: 6/7/2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem