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urdu poetry

flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
mundo que muda sob minha mão
qual se mantem
todos aqueles tesouros que se encontram
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
quando liberdade de sua altura da montanha
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
splendor doce
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
sol e vento e batida do mar
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim
eu amo roubar por algum tempo afastado

 



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