433. O Lady! The tongue sings praises mute,

SONNET 433

By JH Sayyar
O Lady! The tongue sings praises mute,
The eyes enjoy beauty go utterly blind,
My hands cannot write, do not impute,
My will and wit weak, not to me kind,
Now I sing your praise in lone, concept,
To write but lacks power to sing praise,
Of your beauty, my mute mind, accept,
You go far away leaving woeful days,
With your separation, my wit goes nuts,
Eyes full of tears, motionless my lips,
As in dark nights; sleeping kids in huts,
Chilly night, winter waves beauty rips

When I compare beauty with old age,
Time decays, beauty in the line cage!