Bohemian Noon

Morning walks towards the bohemian noon. Before that, she went for a walk in Romna, a moonlit grove. Like an adolescent flower-girl, Morning commencd dancing in the air of dawn Money flies by the touch of the sweet smell of lady-flowers on bosom on buttocks. Sweat doesn’t shed in the income of porters. Now the central AC is on in twice harvesting office. Wearing suit and tie, all the Satans are sitting there with greedy eyes. A herd of black beasts do guard the coffin of Morning. The blazing noon makes coalition with the thin dark night. Yet the Night gradually walks towards the debris of the shore like the call girls of a bar. ------------- Translation: Sayeed Abubakar