Wheel Of Time Poem by AFFAQ NABI

How laisurely I do walk on the wet green way:
Clean is the climate, my prime past memories I carry,
With me, on these scenerires of early mayday,
Aha, balmy aires do add more vim to my,

Journey though alone in red-hot fig fields,
I do cherish sweet echoe sounds of snowcock,
Sliding on trees as like a young
lady on her high heels,

Though heavy of many hours, I sit on a hilly pass, nearby
And stressed, vedio of my eye upon hills, then on saw-mills,
Amazingly, all fine fig fields; are no longer seen,
But, a wide range of hued huts after huts,

How did alter the scenic view of fig fields-green
Shift into a town, I could not see those ducks,
And hut, In which I did help my neices,
To collect eggs, and make their bucks,

Which require guts that's held by few in us,
Just other boys, I cherished to
Walk in my childhoodto these lustful fields,
Far beyond the rosy-red fields, stand's now
Human settlements, red-roof houses


Oh, fig field is merely a forgotten dream now.
When I do forecast the shadow that tells time,
And lay eyes on, how a bright day,
Fell into a melancholic night,
When I recall the, prosperous past,
I do hear, the heart-healing chime,
Legends of love, repose and excite....