"in distant shadows"
Out of a web of words I weave my poem
unto the sphere of forms I leave my poem
wasn't I born desiring to love you?
when I've expired will you believe my poem?
still I expect we'll meet in distant shadows
close to your thought I yet conceive my poem
throughout a cosmic hide-&-seek souls journey
why should a fraught adventure grieve my poem?
those who have gambled much may lose their marbles
do you observe the rules who thieve my poem?
didn't the leaves of grass fly flags of wonder?
fresheting ink of dard! you peeve my poem!
while I yet breathe my poetry blooms & changes!
when I'm no more will this bereave my poem?
into my felt beret I've stuffed my novel
sauntering toward the cafe I sleeve my poem
babbling thus grew Raphael demented?
who'll from disordered heaps retrieve my poem?
still you're alive! but fail to make a garden?
how Raphael will you achieve my poem?
[dard (Urdu): pain, spiritual anguish]