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urdu poetry

un, comme part d'un arbre
il était un jeune oysterman grand
hors de la fenêtre une mer des arbres verts
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
affligez-vous pas pour l'invisible
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
je descends les chemins de jardin
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
vous avez marche vue par le village

 



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