Succulent luscious thine lips,
drip divine sweetness from my skies.
Which eyes so scarce behold,
and the fluttering heart is sold.
Like from times are ballads told.
Gossamer canst thine silks match.
Beaded threads lend to smiles.
Like peeling bells from ages yon.
From past calls creations morn,
then in mists were stars born.
Gloss of being thine ambers reflect,
downy soft sculpted in the form.
Like fluttering freedom sings.
To a swift the heart brings,
as dreams clutch distant things.
original
18 Jan -12
Islamabad.
http: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=nVxnNNGjubg&feature=mr_meh&list=PLDE7836A5F82C7DF2&lf=bf_play&playnext=0
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
classical.................clutching these distant dreams we fly towards, on trails of clouds touching the skies to the distant stars...........