Soul
The
village seems strange; this is separation as if my beloved has left it.
The grief
of separation is so cruel that it is not scared of anyone;
When the
soul does not leave the body it shakes.
Like a
flower withering in the autumn,
Autumn
has now come to my love.
I remain
alone with my shaggy head of hair
Uncomprehending;
my heart has been sad for a long time.
In a
flash, it put a hole in my entire world;
Each
affair is like an arrow.
Oh Faqir!
Better be sad.
Who told
you that love is easy?
Shahzeb
Faqir, 23 December 2007
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