If I do not return, tell your heart
not to lament, come and find me instead
for I will be lying dead in the street
(where I had given you a rose-perfumed envelope
one brumal evening) and hold my h.....
How should I tell you everything
That is sealed in the glued pages,
The truth is-
Oh! I cannot say,
The fallen leaves of my heart
have died in melancholy
and the fading petals
are slowly .....
I once passed by one of the monk lanes
Heard I a monk saying calm and slow
"Where do you go in those fetters, chains?"
said he glancing at me, head to toe
I was amazed for I wasn.....
Welcome to the fall
The season of poets
where every leaf turns to its final call
to make blessings in disguise
The Chinar loses its modesty
The poets their hearts
I won't be here after this war
.....
