In the smallest unit of time I went
A few centuries back when riding a camel
The caravan had a halt after a long way down the hills
In the narrow pass and in the plain near the Tatara
On the bank of the dried stream of waters of torrential rain
The tents were now opening for the goods included linen and silk
The tapestries from Turkey had the voluptuous women
Near the place of worship as the harmonics being played
The shine of the silver in display and the porcelain
From China having motifs of tranquility and nature
Spices from India were aromatic making senses tingle
On earth were the rosaries and small beads of precious stones
Roaring sounds of camels and horses on trots
By the sunset the caravan had to move to the next destiny
The scene is of the small Sunday bazaar in Peshawar
I see familiar faces here and expressions old of ages
I see the beautiful women on the fast track mysterious
With covered eyes yet the mystery is in the dust
In raw nature some selling perfumes of the oils from Arabia
Some others bringing garments used from afar the Balkans
The white bearded man was having a stall of books
Corn burned in the fire of wood for a change of taste
Juice of sugar cane was another delicacy fresh
From the farm all kinds of fruits and vegetables
There could be much description when for myself
I bought a Warner Brothers leather bag for my papers
6/8/2009
dear sadiq.... awesome iwth my background....having sufficient time in WANA and in peshawar....learned to speak basic pukhto... the poems assume a unique experience i refelect and remember with nostalgia to have tread the path of the ancient caravans......and the BLOT.....the obscene glut in recent years....caucasian...same ol, dust cheers mate heres your ten
i love these poems you write on the bazaar in your city...................wonderful warm write...
you were in a bit of spell...nostalgic in return...lovely compsition my friend, great picturesque! ! ! Thanks........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
for a Warner brothers bag great adventure and great poem