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urdu poetry

ho visto le stelle più fiere
dicami non
che cosa noi ora farà
siete vivi?
quando libertà dalla sua altezza della montagna
il sole è in su
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della città
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
sto morendo
sotto il timone del guerriero
il sole ha fatto un passo giù dal suo throne dorato
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo

 



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