Details |
Salman Raian Poem
No pain in my veins,
No discomfort in my chilled fort,
No objection in my reaction,
No regret in my retreat,
No arrangement in my lament.
No. No. No.
I have no readiness like a turning wheel;
I do not endure
Like youth or fuel.
No — no —
Let me go
Copyright © Salman Raian | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Salman Raian Poem
Thus, the fetterless shadows I have been dragging,
While seeds of steadfast words
Germinate one after another.
This is happiness — touching the horizon,
From green to deeper green.
Let it rest in the glade,
In the fragrance of wet air;
Long ago, the sound of pain
Faded into silence.
Ah, bliss — like sleep,
Drifting idly through
The bluish tint of the eyes.
O majestic dawn,
How softly you unfold upon my chest,
To mirror the sky!
A cerulean sail of comfort
Stands firm against the wind;
From wave to wave,
It reaches the distant crowd.
How long I have wandered,
Losing my own invention of fancy!
Orotund and rollicking,
Malicious aspirations scream
Like fragments of a heavenly dream.
My survival — my survival!
Across the field of sunflowers,
Only one stands —
A sunflower,
Speaking to the sun alone
Copyright © Salman Raian | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
Salman Raian Poem
Suddenly, the clock hands stop moving.
The man loses
the count of hours,
minutes,
the days.
No yesterday,
no tomorrow,
not even today.
His bewildered eyes
wander along
the shoe rack,
the shirt hanger,
beneath the shower,
inside the teacup,
from wall to wall.
At last,
feeding on memories,
they lie within the mind
like a dead cricket.
Except for falling asleep
and waking again,
nothing else
has ever lived.
Copyright © Salman Raian | Year Posted 2025
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