Migration by Saba
Oh, my Beloved,
How in the gray of the chimney within the moist of the rain . . .
I hear the throbbing of time as it’s slowly injected into the pathways of my chest.
My heart turns gray as it burns a fire in its quest for water.
Longing for life as it stands still, slowly flickering away, erasing all that it held dear.
Disfigured and dismembered, I still feel the throbbing of time,
Its touch was as gnarled as my burnt fingertips.
Tired of it all, tired of the rush of time, I need peaceful silence.
Thrust me aside to the magnificent green plains from the trains of relentless competition!
To the endless green grasses where the wind dances among the tresses of spring
with an ever-green companion. With the dignified and gracious Earth humbly by my side.
Brotherly gathering of heroic branches, flying with the free dragonflies, singing with the pleasant insect sounds, and entertaining boundless travels with the dandelions.
The fearless breeze of time: So carefree with who it lets me be, such a dignified servant;
yet such a cruel mistress, always serving as a reminder of how long we all have.