Poem by Ayub Khawar
In Front Of My Beloved
I have a complaint to your silent eyes,
Those innocent half-dreamt dreams,
Which were used to embroider spectacles in your eyes,
If they assumed the form of buds on your lips
And blossomed on the string of my expression.
I have a complaint
Against your silent smiling lips,
Listening to my couplets,
They bloomed but remained hushed.
No one knew what colours swathed
Your thoughts at those moments,
But you were well-skilled
To conceal them all from me.
I have a complaint against your love too,
It was as deep as an unfathomable sea,
But used to brimmed from your eyes
As if flask overspills,
And showered upon my wounded heart
With such a manner as the spring eliminates
The difference between homeland and the wasteland,
I ever regarded,
The world is incarnation of your beauty,
So my existence,
My eyes and all my dreams are meant for you.
But in this mute game,
The pangs which your love imparted me,
Till now they wish to have a dialogue
With your illusive eyes,
One to one, in the mirro.