Dead upon dead spreading death,
Rage of man, against himself
Down goes the oracles of high
Indeed who wins, shall suffer dread.
Grope in the dark, we hold
Each other's arm, lest astray
He who tells of the future err
He who has lived, but past.
What happens to them is none's fault
The living guilt, by a sacrifice undone
They catharted, prayed and almed
What happened to them is tragic play.
Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
May 18,2014.
Song of Orpheus,1997 by Barbara Kerstetter @ Barbara Kerstetter
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem