Showing posts from July, 2025Show all
960. Ah! I kissed a fairy in my dream,
959. Tell me, O Rose, where gentle Love abides
958. When time draws its lines upon man’s face,
957. My child, years will turn your gold to gray,
956. Cuckoo’s haunting voice of hill and glade,
955. O restless youth, with fire in your veins,
954. When night folds its wings across the skies,
953. Though shadows stretch, whispers fill the air,
952. When darkness deepens o'er the silent land,
951. What my fellows do in age's long gloom,
950. When I unlock memory’s lock in lone,
949. Let your breast be my pillow, my dove,
948. O Rose! let us kiss in the falling cataract,
947. O rise, green land, where Indus Rivers flow,
946. Sonnet: August the Fifth – Break Every Lock
945. Sonnet: How to Rule, Learn from Changes Khan
944. Sonnet: For Rights, Unite the Peoples of Pakistan
943. Sonnet: Power March to Islamabad for Imran Khan's Release
942. Sonnet upon the Death of My Beloved Father
941. Sonnet: On the Death of My Beloved Mother!
940. When love weeps, the skies in sorrow break,
939.O Rose, let us leave this tonight and be free,
938. I play all night with your shadows, my dear,
937. Upon this dawn, the world in hush did lie,
936. When first the stars in whispered hush aligned,
935. In each falling tear I do see your name,
934. With fall of night, I miss you, dear, more,
933. O let me bathe where ocean’s fingers play,
932. In your erotic eyes, love softly lies,
931. When Love whispers, soft in moonlit air,
930. O Lady! Let us love in Blue Ocean deep,
929. When night falls soft upon the sighing land,
928. O Lady, your sweet love does light my mind,
927. Let’s sing with cuckoos in the morn vales,
926. Let us drink, my love beneath stars so wide,
925. When my lady walks at the pebbled shore,
924. O Lady, let me drink from red, red lips,
923. In iron halls where justice draws its final line,
922. Sonnet to the Iron Will of Imran Khan
921.Sonnet: To Imran Khan in Prison; Says to the Nation; “I Am Not Afraid, You Shiver”
920. From silent depths where void and shadow lay,
919. When stars in mischief court the silent moon,
918. Youth has gone, like dews on the breeze,
917. O Zarin, golden light of vanished days,
916. Her grace outshines the silver-candled moon,
915. My lady’s flying hair in cool air so free,
914. Fate weaves her threads but we cannot see,
913. Cruel Fate, thou tyrant walks in shifting guise,
912. Sonnet: Upon the Death of Democracy in Pakistan
911. When passion’s tide begins its silent swell,
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