EDGE..

"laut jaati hai udhar ko bhi nazar kya kije..
Ab bhi dilkash hai tera husn kya kije"

VISION

"Aasma duur se jhuk kar tujhe karta hai salaam,
koi tujh sa sitamgar, na dekha na suna"

DUSK

In the hills ...

PERSIAN TOUCH !!

It’s a poem of "sohrab" I like to share a part of it with you:

Passenger looked at the table:

- How nice apples,

- Life is inebriety of loneliness

Host asked:

What does nice mean?

- mean loving interpretation of things,

- And love carried me to the grief extent of lives

- reached me to the possibility of being a bird

And what's grief's antidote?

- That sounds a pure elixir!

Why your heart is obscure? Seems alone,

- Too much alone too!

I think you are involved with the hidden pulse of existence,

- involve mean lover,

- And imagine how alone will be if a little fish be involved with boundless blue

- must be involved otherwise perplexity humming among two letter will lost,

- And love is a travel to the lightness of oscillation of objects privacy,

- It’s the sound of spaces which are not drown in obscurity,

- But are clean like silver and will be obscure with hearing a nothing,

- Lover is always alone with everyone,

- His hands are in the fragile hands of seconds,

- He and seconds go beyond the days,

- He and seconds lay on lights,

- He and seconds donate the best book of the world to the water and know it well,

- That no fish has ever fastened the 1001 ties of river,

- At midnights with old canoe of intuition,

- They set out in guidance waters,

- Advance till wonders manifestation,

Passenger sat near the window,

- I'm still in travel,

- I think there is a canoe in the worlds waters,

- And me, its passenger,

- its Thousands of years that sing the alive song of old navigators

- near the seasons ear and move onward,

- Where does travel want to carry me?

- Where will be unfinished the sign of foot?

- Where is the place of reaching and sitting thoughtless?

- In which spring my soul's leaves will grow green?

- And listen that this massage has knocked to my dreams window during whole my travel,

What is singing near your ear in the entire path?

Think truly…

Where is the hidden core of this mysterious singing?

What does press your eye-lids?

Which warm pleasant weight?

- travel wasn’t lengthy,

- swallows passing decreased the times volume,

- starlings sitting on cypress branch, turn over the seasons book,

- first line was:

- life is a colorful moment of " eve's neglect"

- look, there is always an scratch on sense's surface,

- that extreme attendance of being renovate it,

- always something, as if dream's consciousness,

- as smooth as death foot arrive from behind, and touch our shoulder,

- And we drink the heat of its light fingers like a pleasant poison, near the accident.

- always must walk with a fresh breathe,

- Must blow out to clean the golden face of death.

- The far road of travel was reaching to the hidden essence of being amongst man and iron,

- It was joining to the wet exile of a water brook,

- To the silent flash of a scab,

- To the acquaintance of a tune,

- To the boundlessness of a color.

- Among these colorful struggle ,

- Who knows the situation of my retirement stone?

- Jungle still doesn’t know its countless dimensions,

- Leaf still ride on first letter of wind;

- A song can be hear,

- I am the only addresser of world's winds,

- And world's river are teaching me the pure code of vanishing, just to me,

- That I am involve with warmth word,

- Must pass,

- Must be attendant of far horizon,

- Must pass and sometimes,

- Must pick off habits from a branch,

- Its wind song,

- O! ever winds, I'm passenger,

- Convey my seconds to repeated birds in white sky of instinct,

- Change the accident of my existence to a pure lost connection,

- Show me the mild attendance of nothing.

Eternal attendance of being amongst time's volume is waiting for you …

Don’t leave them alone,

Go on…

NAZAKAT

"Andaaz apne dekhte hein aai-ne mein woh,
aur ye bhi dekhte hein koi dekhta na ho"