![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe02GWfqaVh_UybFyvY-iAC9i-qbOh-lFwN5RRNZXdJCY5weHJL_vT1_bSwyh6B2bPJMXo1XYjK8MxhMwLO3oeAxP_NLGVr6HQJ6Dx4bpTjFYv2-EBmLqJqfFySG24YUDK4McyNS0FtpJ7/s320/untitled.bmp)
World expected love from me,
In a way if I had to pay its debt!
Coins of my truthfulness
Were trampled in a manner
That if I had not held myself together!
We would have remained shelterless and
devoid of social clothings
I have lived in my house
And paid jiziya all my life
This poem was written by Parvin Shakir for her son Murad
(Translation by Raza Rumi)
No comments:
Post a Comment