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Smoldering
I sat beside the sappy smoldering straw,
Thick grey smoke rose from the substance,
With the undulating curvy dancing motion,
When the winter wind blew form the west;
And dissipated far above into the dusky air,
Like an apparition of a despised phantom.
Then the gushing blows spurted the flames,
That altered the heaped pile into dark ashes,
While the heap burnt I listened to the blistering,
Sounds conveying: smoldering either extincts,
Or spurts, it does not go on for the long time.
poem
by
Muhammad Shanazar
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