A Poem About Expanding Distances
Paths are hot on my trail
And eyes...... as always they do......
Behind, far behind
Are nailed to apertures in the door.
My mom has furrows
Criss-crossed on her time-worn face
And like a dot sans word
Unaware of my own import
I am gaoled in the abdomen
Of starving books.
If one were to look
Into sisters' eyes at the moment of parting
One would know
How deserts are changed into oceans.
Do you remember
You had said at separation
When the dreams of journey
Spring forth from lines of the palm
To become the fate of my feet
Two eyes......as always they do......
Behind, far behind
Will be nailed to the apertures in the door.
And that moment
(you had said)
Will be the last link in our contact.
(1980, Translated By Dr. Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
Added by Poetry Lover
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