Mendicant Shadows Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

And the horse-show cliffs turn round and round
On each turn hangs an old master's painting
Done in the impressionist or pointillist precision,
Narrow bridges tied by knots to the edge of rocks
Hangs down on the rivers' eternal flow,
Glitter of glaciers is understated by mix of mud.
O wherefrom the wrecked school building in boulders,
Or a board signifying who's done what, in wretchedness.
Absence signify presence, cemeteries are not mile long,
Like houses smaller, there is no epitaph, no rites prolong.
Old fashioned smile pervades the season,
Scarf fallen from head, who watches, nor is preacher insane
Old huts emit aromatous smoke, dewed in cold,
O cosmopolitan sensibility, the bird has wings of color
Sitting on walls, may they forget the engravings in stone.
Paths are made by stones, following the goat's hoof
The child's play is trekking the hill. Are they destined
Only to be porters to the princes from Europe
On the edge of Asia, sub-continental chorus of dance
Selling like rotten cakes, the bake-man display
Fair and lovely to the customers to look faire.
The abandoned water-mill, small stream
Of deviant water channel, flows down the bark's gut
To run the mill, did not electricity is invented
This way, and unlocked, stealing has not gained practice.
Yet a woman drives a car, and has kudos going to centre,
Learn and teach trades of living, men have not
Turned upon their halves, for fear of a dissent.

Gilgit
November 12,2014.