Sibghatullah Khan Poems
Comments about Sibghatullah Khan
The First Spring Rain
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
multiple, muscular, liquid verticals
lustily fall on Earth that lies supine
with all its pores agape. Rain drops,
strong and uncouth, ruffle Earth's chest,
and worm into her crevices and hollows.
She swells up and swallows all that comes
from a thundering Sky. We'll soon watch Earth
loosen her large Pelvis for a Glorious Birth.
Then And Now
No one can call my name
And fill my whole being
Pluck me a starry night
from dark blue
When moon stood waiting
for her turn.
Come a crease or a line