I Met With The Girl Poem by Aftab Alam

Do you know: what disease am I suffering from?
Hunger! No sleep, outthought; where I am from?

Walking on the road, I met with a girl,
She was an angel; her eyes were the pearl,
O….I met with the girl. Please bring that girl.
Rays of her eyes when fallen on my eyes;
Her rosy-rosy face and crazy -crazy lips,
While laughing, made dimple on her chicks,
Sat on my mind and I'm under her grips,
Call some priest, don't wait, just you hurl.
Fetch my pearl, dive into ocean, be curl.
Walking on the road, I met with a girl,
She was an angel, her eyes were the pearl.
O….I met with the girl. Please bring that girl,
Like an unthreaded kite floating on air,
Will I again fly or die, knew not dear!
Blinded with her image, call her near.
No taste, all waste, no rest, is it clear?
Day or night or a compartment tight,
Is it a disease or some unseen fright?
Is it a peaceful freedom of youth?
Afraid with the desire! Come and furl.
Walking on the road, I met with a girl,
She was an angel, her eyes were the pearl.
O….I met with the girl. Please bring that girl...//
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