Whether It Is You
Poet: Ayub KhawarTranslated from Urdu: Muhammad Shanazar
Just for a while descend downStairs of this poem,And peek into me and your own inner-self,If you aren’t the asset of my soulThen who is at last?
When you converse with a dewy tone,It seems as if you stitch my heart,Like a fresh dream,You make each wire of my soul fragrant,With the colour of poesy.
O! My sweet,It seems as if you go through ablutionWith the wetness kneaded in the touch of my lips,While sinking down into gurgling pulsationsFrom each channel of my heart,If you aren’t the asset of my soulThen who is at last?You are of course.
You are who let me drown into fragrance,Of your anchal,Into the warmth of rainbow,Of your colourful phalanges,And into abysses of the lakes,Of your dream like eyes.If you aren’t the asset of my soulThen who is at last?You are of course.
Just for a while,Descend down the stairs of this poem,And peek into me and your own inner-self,Where I stand and where you do,You stand at a little distanceStill and motionless,Why are you so engrossed?Whether it is you!