White Clouds
White clouds
Morphing wonderfully
Watch those bears
Changing into
Rows of elephants
Shaping like
A frail old man standing
Rearranging into children
Playing with balloons.
White clouds
Sway on cradle of the wind
Occasionally shrivel
With toil and sadness
At times inflate
With joy and gladness
Never forget
Heaven nor earth
They lie pendent
Between the two worlds.
White clouds
Strolling since eternity
Telling strange fables
Of grand olden dwellings
With a world of ancient souls
When there was nothing, but
A fluid of light,
A landscape of mist
And a suspended caravan
Of several ages.
White clouds, now
Moulding into sombre faces, become
Storms sulking on the horizon.
Thousands of maladies thrive
Above and underneath the land.
White clouds
Course through hearts,
Surging in
The plasma flow of vessels.
(Translated from the original Urdu into English by Lillian Thomas/Sameer Ahmed)
I am still floating with those clouds Naseer - - a kind of white peace appears in the imagery used.
Refreshing & Resplendent, my ole' PH friend...You still got that "Midas Touch" ! FjR
What a breathtaking flight through eternity, Naseer. Your poems always bring the wind of peace, hope and light everywhere. Best wishes. Yelena.