Sunday, September 7, 2014

Through the Window of My Room



Through the Window of My Room

by Rizwan Ahmed Memon


Through the window of my room
I saw the world.
I knew the pain of homelessness,
And saw the hard work of the shoemaker on the footpath.

The window of my room was like the TV,
Through which I peered into the world.
I saw the punctuality of the traffic police,
And the regularity of schoolchildren.

Years passed; things had changed.
The schoolchildren had become tall,
And that green tree, which once looked a plant,
Grew and looked so huge and beautiful.

Oh, that beggar -- he always came
In the evening and in the morning.
I had seen innocence in his eyes;
Through the window of my room.

And that pot seller
On his wheel barrow had four children.
He has always remained simple,
Honest, and good to others.

My window showed me how the world runs.
The window and I have also turned old.
The glass in the window and the glasses on my eyes
Are not so clear now.

The rains, the winds have affected them.
The time has changed us all.
The world has changed,
The window has changed -- my eyes have changed.





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