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.
Through long, dark blanketing winters,
We try to keep up with life.
Every cold day, we sniff through our Coffins
To feel if it smells like grass, and wait
For bells to toll that stifling silence
Away, and hear the chirruping that breaks
Out of the ice-clods. That makes
It rather easy to stand the frost.