Poems

Exile

When exile breaks like a storm
over the open plain of my calm,
when sadness spreads its wings
and hangs, like a crow,
at my door,
I take up the frozen-winged sparrow
of my grief
I go, I go
till I find a child
and with the light of his eyes
I teach the sparrow to fly again
Yet, my love,
how often have I seen
when children grieve in this city
how, like little ducks,
they come to bathe
in the lake of your eyes

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Comments (2)

Clancette Clift

Ah! now that I have read THIS poem, i feel that I see through a crack into the poets heart!
Is is possible for me to ask Abdulla Pashew if the sky poem was referring perhaps to the stars in the sky not just as stars, but as memories of the stars previously viewed in his homeland? together with the hopes and dreams that were born when he sat beneath them?

Clancette Clift

Ah! now that I have read THIS poem, i feel that I see through a crack into the poets heart!
Is is possible for me to ask Abdulla if the sky poem was referring perhaps to the stars in the sky not just as stars, but as memories of the stars previously viewed in his homeland? together with the hopes and dreams that were born when he sat beneath them?

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