I Have this Garden of Poems








full of flowers that bloom
at first
and then carried away with my greenthumb
i planted everything
trees and more trees and shrubs and bamboos
and vines and hanging plants

almost everything
and so the blooming flowers died
and the grasses diminishing like some
hair of this baldness

but nothing is lost in this garden of poems
the birds came and built their nests
some are still coming
every morning
and then the chirping begins





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like wind... like sand...

like wind... like sand...
as illusion as firefly
flying over cold sea

the brutal scenes
are now descending
in shadowy endings

they liked to go ahead
to ask about inner wishes
and finally left, never regret

listening to the screams
that came from the stronghold
staining, some sour tears on themselves

Ahmad Shiddiqi

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