Like a miniature painting
The eyes like fish
When dip the pen in the inkpot
How they drown
in the colors of poem.
The flower vase on the table
And the green tablecloth
with dancing peacocks on all four edges
Under the inkpot
in the middle of the table
a book -
on the title page burns
Van Gogh’s tree -
- Would the fire of my heart
burn like this!
And in that fire
the hands of darkness burn!!
From ‘Aur’
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Baidar Bakht:: Translator of Urdu Poetry par excellence
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