Icon !

Where is she … ?!

That girl who stood on these ramparts years ago

Statuesque … iconic …besieged by the world

A deity …  worshiped by the early glow of my dreams !

Where is she now ?

That crazy-headed rebellious Truth

With the restless, quivering eye lashes

Who came to refute the sham of this world.


 

Under these ramparts,

My breath is still patched and mended

By the soft breeze of her existence

Which once did battle against eternal stony walls

 

But I wonder where she rests now

That crazy-headed rebellious Truth ?

This is how young, unfolding lives

With their tinkling laughter

Are lost forever in a dark enduring slumber

 

What manner of sleep is this

Whose sea-waves slowly crumble and erode

All islands of the heart ?

What kind of dreams are these

That swim within this sleep

Floating back … returning again and again… forever in this deep slumber ?

Dreams .
.
.
  whose childhood glow never fades away !!

 


(Translated by Talat Afroze from the original Urdu text of the poem: Moortee); 

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