I heard a piteous cry
As departed from a soul
Who it could be
In the dome of night
Was it my conscious
Or retiring owl?
How desperate my thoughts have been
To inspire my dreams
For they were never true.
Mortal joy of love
Blended with sorrows
Suddenly passed through.

Oh! My silent visitor
Don't you oppress
It's dome of silence
And domain of dying hopes
Often you come and go
Each night in solitude
Yet I have buried myself
Deep in narrow slopes.

Far in the valleys
Quite and hazy
There I often see
Ruins of holy love
There comes no merci,
Cool winds or rain
Only glimpse of sorrow
Loneliness over and above.

By Ashraf G.Goreja
Copyright July 26.1983