Its a translation of a ghazal that I wrote. The translation has lost its rhyming scheme, but still may convey the idea. Altough, now much like prose, it must be read in couplets.
A Ghazal
The dry flower of hope smelled of mellow colors today:
memory of spent life and the lost youth's nostalgia.
Look my grievence worked; the hour of unity approaches,
But ray-of-unity has brought the message of the night along.
Lips of the time, which are stationary to the virtue of their fate
Today, shimmer smiles like dew on the roses.
Vince is nervous, stuck in turmoiled-whirl-of-time
Its the hour a star sinks in the chaos of the dawn.
1 comment:
why dont u post the original in its original rhyming scheme, so that some of us who are acquainted with that language can appreciate it in all its splendor?
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