Sibghatullah Khan Poems

As I sit reading in my room, I hear
the first Spring rain thumping the Earth.
Since I cannot concentrate, I rush
out on my roofed terrace and see
...

If I make it,
I'll lose my innocence,
and for my blessed life embrace
that haughty, enlightened ignorance.
...

They had sweated to excel,
and work their way uphill;
some had finally made it
and whatever they had to, paid it.
...

Hello!
This is Pakistan speaking.
I just called to let you know
that I'm very sick these days,
...

No one can call my name
like that
And fill my whole being
with love,
...

If seven o'clock is present,
twelve is future;
both run into the sunset
to make it past.
...

Love plays its miracles;
it can do all kinds of things:
When you are sick and sad,
it lifts you up from the blues and sings
...

Death sounds like silence,
like the falling of Autumn leaves,
a sad, broken heart when it heaves,
like someone walking in a deserted street,
...

Saying the same over and over makes no sense
unless it does not mean the same.
But how can you say something
when words are so rude? : they refuse
...