Elusive Nymph by Shamsud Ahmed - HTML preview

TOMORROW

Fisherman – Your boat is drifting,

Take my hand, bring it ashore.

Inalienable hardship at work,

Never known to my hungry fork.

Army man – Your march is tiring,

Take my feet and my boots – make your trip.

Those icy thorns pricks you everywhere,

Ignorant habitat here let me be there.

Courtesan – There is someone at the door,

Tonight let me go, you mend your sore.

Happiness sold in this market of deaths,

Dream abandoned nights for tasteless breads.

Mother – Don’t let your child grow,

Let it be there at your breast.

Those vultures and ugly Crow

There is still a tomorrow