In Gilgit Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

In Gilgit



My first day, over peaks of Himalaya
On the west, Hindukush and Karakorum,
Trailing fire-bird, white snowed, gentle like
Ice cups or heaps of chocolaty mud, runs water through.
The stillness is making my tinnitus unbearable,
The green palm is swinging in own weight,
The loud sound would alert, and murmur suffice
Lone rose bud, and garden is receding to autumn.
Where I have seen this before, that the girl,
As if had tattoos of Bukhara on her chin,
And a Kazak lass's simile in own land, own home.
You will not be so hospitable, I know this-
They would have made a crescent of extreme
Sophistication, amiability and raw nature
By Buddha's teaching, today's modernity,
Some of the followers of the prince think in English,
Alice Albinia told me and women greet strangers.
There is a back flow in Indus, the ants who eat gold
And dust, the very alien existentialogy is killing them.
I found a Chilas blanket, may be the last of its kind,
And a Swat cream-white shawl, edges done in silk,
Not lesser than Cashmere and redder than her lips.

Sadiqullah Khan
Gilgit
October 13,2014.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love and art
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Les premières traces du bouddhisme dans la vallée de l'Indus au Pakistan @ panoramio.com
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success