Mustard Field.... Poem by Khalid Hameed

when
she walks through the mustard field
blending in with the flowers
as much as possible she can be
running from one field to the other one
like a kite flying in the Basant*
as high as possible, it can be
like a cloud in a storm front
she is my sweet
love,
and it's hard to believe,
she loves me
more,
takes me as I am,
as I want it to be,
when she runs
along the brook
her purple kurta**
and white scarf
flow smooth like smoke
in the breeze,
playing musical notes
all over my heart,
as angels playing magical harp
majors, minors, and some sharps
sitting under the mango tree
and watching her,
step over yellow petals,
her payal***
making sounds as she dances
making my heart beat fast
and a little ghayal*+*
wants to leap out of my chest
making me liberated and free
when
she walks through the mustard field


* first day of spring (hindi)
** shirt (hindi/urdu)
*** anklet (hindi/urdu)
*+* wounded (hindi)