Mohammad Ahmad
05-10-2014, 02:12 AM
Bashfully she stopped at doors
A girl of fifteen years never I see
Wrapped to her eyes with a shabby veil
Nothing she asks but a refuge
Her home was shattered by a letter bomb
And her father was buried there
To what this agony I don’t know
Comes from a distance tiring eyes
In what I tried to find an answer,
I felt unable or perhaps I am deceived.
Fourteen or eighteen to me is the same.
Heaven came with her when she trod.
Angelic girl of great prestige
The honour is out of her eyes seen
What should I help to offer her?
A shabby course is coloured with blood
And the spring is blushed from its tar
A pink rose I implanted three years ago
Reminds me to this blushed cheek
And the mantel of my dining room
Mantled when she trod the threshold
Prithee, for what is this speech again?
Am I surrendered to my imagination? Or
Am I unpaired to this unshelled atmosphere?
A girl of fifteen years never I see
Wrapped to her eyes with a shabby veil
Nothing she asks but a refuge
Her home was shattered by a letter bomb
And her father was buried there
To what this agony I don’t know
Comes from a distance tiring eyes
In what I tried to find an answer,
I felt unable or perhaps I am deceived.
Fourteen or eighteen to me is the same.
Heaven came with her when she trod.
Angelic girl of great prestige
The honour is out of her eyes seen
What should I help to offer her?
A shabby course is coloured with blood
And the spring is blushed from its tar
A pink rose I implanted three years ago
Reminds me to this blushed cheek
And the mantel of my dining room
Mantled when she trod the threshold
Prithee, for what is this speech again?
Am I surrendered to my imagination? Or
Am I unpaired to this unshelled atmosphere?