In Samarkand :
I dream of your eyes picking
up the moon beams
from decrepit Chinar branches
in Kashmir. I dream of your night.
I dream of your sky rattling against tinkle of your anklets.
The hues your blush wears
when I paint your nails
the motley colors of love.
I dream of those long walks in rain ,
the songs of strange silence looming in our horizons like blue bells.
I dream you, unknowingly, singing to lilacs :
” My eyes, my eyes? ”
I dream you , in the meadows of absence, complaining to daffodils :
” My eyes, my eyes? ”
My dreams figure you in my incomplete poems
What would your eyes look like?
They are bees. I can not resist their sting.
Copyright ©: Omair Bhat
End of the poem
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Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
