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The Iceland That Is Named Love
If you will have to go,
To the Iceland that is named Love
Take my memory along.
It is heard
That once there live a couple of swans,
They both governed each other’s heart,
Picked dreams descending into the eyes,
Wove the fabric of faithfulness with silky dialogues,
And renovated it on each day;
But what happened as the season changed,
They both flew on diverse directions,
It is heard
Since then they were not seen together.
The Iceland that is named Love,
If you will have to go there,
Please do visit the lonely tree,
Upon whose costume of the branches,
On every side the names of lovers are carved.
It is heard
That the inscribers never get a chance to rewrite,
They stamp their fingers with blood,
They lose their fortune, they accepted their defeat.
The Iceland that is named Love
If you will have to go there,
Take my memory along.
My memory is a shade in sweltering temperature
And it is a season of some village of the past.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem
by
Muhammad Shanazar
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