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A Change Of Scene Is But A Moment’s Respite

In the sunbathed expanse of the sky
Birds were on the wing
Now lost in the quaint net
Of limetless space
In sky-lakes, azure blue,
They can’t be seen.
Clouds kiss the hillock’s lips
Then dance in ecstasy
Move around from valley to valley
Suddenly slipping from steep precipices
A comely face like a silken handkerchief
Gets soaked somewhere
In the rain of tears.
My dreams take a plunge
From the open window
And land
In the hands of the kids playing
In the eyes of the balloon seller
In the heart of the Gypsy girl
Hawking her wares – earthen toys.
The wind blows them away in a moment.

A change of scene is but a moment’s respite
To look long and longingly
With a deep gaze of adoration
Is a palpable loss.
Whole life spans are spent
In slow motion.

(Translated from Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand)

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