Ho! Who lurks in the darkness?
Whose can be those voices calling?
No, wait, I can still feel the blood
In my veins giving me light.
Wait! Whoever you are.
Better hold back the appointed hour
Of my demise.

See! A smooth and soft sheet of paper
Is stirring my pen to flow…
The dunes of sand are a song
In my cordial thoughts.
Look into my eyes!
In there, the blue oasis is substantial.
The mirror-images tell me
Of a bedouin’s favourite poem.
With lasting remembrances,
The desert is a different dream:
Every time, from which I learn.

Ho! Who lurks in the darkness?
Whose can be those voices calling?
No, wait, I can still feel the blood
In my veins giving me light.
Wait! Whoever you are.
Better hold back the appointed hour
Of my demise.

Dubai
11th April 2010

Geeta Chhabra