Over the yellow
Wheat fields
Hover black crows
Like death.
After some time,
The crows in the sky
Hold Van Gogh
In their wings
And take him
Towards the grave of the yellow sky.
Tr. Baidar Bakht
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Baidar Bakht:: Translator of Urdu Poetry par excellence
BAIDAR BAKHT is Adjunct Professor of Civil Engineering at the Universities of Toronto and Manitoba, Canada. He translat...
-
My daughter Little dear daughter Lights a pencil With a sharpener. The sky of the white paper Begins to be filled with light. The black bird...
-
A dalit poet Leaves several things behind: A paper dripping wet with blood, A black sun On the night’s head, A river of blood, A lantern of... -
BAIDAR BAKHT is Adjunct Professor of Civil Engineering at the Universities of Toronto and Manitoba, Canada. He translat...
No comments:
Post a Comment