Birds made of glass
Bees of wax
Butterflies of plastic
Horses of sweet globules
Waiting
eagerly
Looking for
A day of revival
When stones would blossom out
With the soft touch of moonlit
And
From the oblivion, people would awake
In a body, and a carnival
Spring out of deadly silence
Towards horizon
A narrow path will widen itself
To make you disappear
With all your pride and proclamation
hope stones would bloom with the soft touch of moonlit as you say. good one Rahman ji! thanks for sharing! !
Beautiful imagery and a great vision for the future.Nice.
Happier than mourning. Tune than words. Look on Gaza. The tower of horizon. Of course, revival - hidden between all the entities - poet's prayer will rise. Stones will blossom. All artists create paintings, sculptures, drawings, ceramics, skilful, all - everything will be artistic. And the artist's work - one day will be destroyed. Poet is not the artist. Poet's words - is not artistic. Poet's creation - immortal. Poet - creator Representative. Poets will be perennial. To all of life. Poet's life ahead. Trampled under foot all the way to Earth. Anger, revolution, love, happiness, hope, prayer, sacrifice everything.
From the oblivion, people would awake In a body, and a carnival Spring out of deadly silence..... so nice thinking............
I wish lots of these people healthier and bigger than me will have self revival besides waiting from gov't hands out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And From the oblivion, people would awake In a body, and a carnival Spring out of deadly silence Brother these lines are charged with highly poetic expressions, thanks for sharing.