Now Tell Me My Gain Poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Now Tell Me My Gain
He brought alms;
My earthen pot had a Venus's image.
My grandmother to the stone mill of hand
Poured much and as much poured to her hens.
I, for my self pity, hung a rope on my door.
They would come for alms, and now they return.
My upper hand has become my lower hand.
Now tell me my gain.
Sadiqullah Khan
Peshawar
February 8,2013.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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5/2/2024 10:23:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A looser or what let me know sir