SONNET 421
By JH Sayyar
I saw a lady standing on the grave;
Sullen eyes loaded with the tears!
Freeze on the cheeks near a grave
Near the grave many ants; no fears
A cold day, fingers numb with cold,
Standing on her father’s tomb alone,
Saying to her, ‘Go home, night cold,
None says to go home with a moan!
None says you, night cold, go home
I did see the sight from fifteen feet,
A cute girl bent to her father’s comb
She said, ‘We shall in heaven meet,”
Death nothing, shift of human soul!
Holy hearts happy; unholy in coal!
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