Poem by Mohammed Iqbal
My apologies, I couldn’t discover any of your secret unearthly treasures.
It seems you are nothing but a sapless, unpleasant dry desert.
Bereft of single patch of promising green!
Poets, writers, philosophers, oh how they find joy in you.
I simply layed my soul into the mysterious balcony of yours to feel the heart cooling breeze.
I might not be able to dig up the path to see your allure glow.
But I will!
Some of you know me as a poet.
This is my promise.
I will not return without a basket full of sparkling light and happiness from your unparalleled glory.
Because I believe that I am a poet.