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Thy memory
In the desert of my unending gloom,
I feel thy hand on my visage,
The intensity of my pain retreats,
The frangrance of thy being
Lights up, in me,
The spirit of vivacity,
My days are luminious,
My nights are colourful.
I feel the moisture of thy hair
As the rain comes,
I feel thy touch
As the wind blows,
I experience spring
In the autumn of my life,
The flowers of thy memory
Bloom everywhere.
But Ah!
As soon as thy memory departs,
The world becomes dark to me
And my spirit.
I am lost in my business again,
The business of memorizing thee.
poem
by
Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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