Wednesday, June 28, 2017

JH Sayyar's Sonnets

413
Hunger and poverty make men’s might and sharpen wit,
Wit: the gist of human soul loves in men’s fickle brain,
It shuns from the darkest wisdom, the foolish eye’s grit,
Emotions push wisdom, and poor wisdom slave to fame,
I see wisdom sitting at every corner of every city street,
Ah! Laughing at the foolish, wearing black tattered robs,
With sunken eyes see the sight of passing women’s feet,
Spreading hair around the face with bitter sighs and sobs,
I watch wet and wisdom peep through the whore’s eyes,
I see the cunning love sitting at her cute and pretty lips,
I listen to her conscious voice, enthralled hue and cries
What they have done weeping bitter in their poor kips

Always pleasures lie in good deeds do look in the glass,
You full of glee in heaven, good deeds among the mass