Your hand is playing with your hair
Your hair is playing on your face
There are two magic cups in your face
I'd love to play with those mystery cups
 In the next picture
You and I, we are two kids
And we are playing
Sometimes our hands come together
Sometimes we tie our arms
The next picture
You think to yourself :
Perhaps it wasn't meant to be playing with him again
And I think 
It wasn't us it was god
Busy playing with destinies
In the next picture
Two birds and two cages
Birds playing with feed and seeds.
People playing hide and seek
Or busy in the games of marriage
The next picture
When I lose you 
Life dies, and so does the pleasure of plying
When you are with me, scents play with colours, rivers play with valleys.
Now my eyelashes turned to gazelles
Play on your footprints and look for you
In the next picture
Your  hands on your hair
Your hair playing on your face                                                                                      
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     are on your hair


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Comments (3)

Hameed anjum

very nice site for poets
Thanks a lot


I think the author’s visual of ‘cups’ should be maintained in the first stanza.  ‘Rubies’ does not do the author’s original intention justice.  I think the lines would maintain their identity more if they went something like this:
Your hand plays with your hair.
Your hair plays across your face.
Your eyes are two bewitching cups,
cups my heart longs to sip from (or, drink/quench from).

Part of what gives non-English poems and writings their appeal to me is their different language.  I wouldn’t alter the unique description/metaphor if it can be nurtured into understanding.


Well, after having read this poem i feel those 2 people are personifications of life and its dreams. Life here is enthralled by the beauty of its dreams and is constantly trying to realise it. But as in the 3rd stanza “GOd is playing with our destiny”.

So i feel this poem is about the helplessness of man in the arms of God/fate as he is constantly tossed about by the ups and downs of life.

This is just my humble reading…coz after all  there are multiple readings to a text! smile

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