Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid, We have built a tower of stone high into the sky, We have built a city of towers.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
‘I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams, I will hold my light above them and seek their faces. I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .’ The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness, Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest, Or as […]
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
The wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams, The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street, And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
Come back, true love! Sweet youth, return!— But time goes on, and will, unheeding, Though hands will reach, and eyes will yearn, And the wild days set true hearts bleeding.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
All lovely things will have an ending, All lovely things will fade and die, And youth, that’s now so bravely spending, Will beg a penny by and by.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
O sweet clean earth, from whom the green blade cometh! When we are dead, my best belovèd and I, Close well above us, that we may rest forever, Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
My heart is torn with the sound of raucous voices, They shout from the slums, from the streets, from the crowded places, And tunes from the hurdy-gurdy that coldly rejoices Shoot arrows into my heart.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
My heart has become as hard as a city street, The horses trample upon it, it sings like iron, All day long and all night long they beat, They ring like the hooves of time.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020
Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread; Now that I am without you, all is desolate; All that was once so beautiful is dead.
Read More...by Suhel Ahmad | Last Updated on June 12, 2020 | Created on June 12, 2020