From fated gashes gurgle streams
Snatch carmine rags from the seams
Where gold peaks, from proud hills
Peppers life in dales, humming mills
A son lies sans cap and open mouth
Softly on grasses that creep from south
Sleeps, stretched, under the blue sky
pale in his green bed where rain drops fly
Gladioli tickle his feet, he sleeps, smiles.
Like a stricken child without the guiles.
Cradle softly nature, for he is cold
Ah! In life, was so warm and bold
No earthly incense shall quiver the nare
Nor mortal cares transgress his lair
He sleeps in the sun, hand on his breast
Calm! Red roses ooze from the side of his chest
Adapted from a famous French poem:
Le dormeur du val
(Arthur Rimbaud)
1870.
Heavily borrowed and helped with…for I know not a word of French!
… thanx all… I_B, S_W, M_C, T_N, C_D…
saadat tahir…done as a sequel to my poem…”spring on crutches”
oki…
M_M…i am goin to post an urdu one
i wrote it during the dying days of MUSH regime…
well…i warn you my urdu is rather rudimentary…so suffer in silence…please.
sat
first i will have to enter it in urdu script..now how am i supposed to do that..!
well pl wait a while!
