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urdu poetry

mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
substance de la lune
calme en tant que que deuxième été
j'ai eu un rêve et je me suis réveillé avec lui
ils ont jeté une pierre, vous ont jeté une pierre
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
souffleur de verre de temps
nuit mystérieuse
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
du plancher au plafond
dans le port de New York


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