Son, I Again Dreamt About You Last Night
A version after Iqbal
I couldn’t find the road in the dark,
my every hair bristled
but I dared myself and walked on,
saw boys swaying in single file,
each holding a Diya lamp in his hand,
their clothes glowed like emeralds—
God only knew where they were going. . .
I saw you at the end of the line,
your Diya unlit. “Heartbeat of my heart,”
I said, “where are you going after abandoning
me? All day I thread my tears into a necklace.
“Don’t weep for me,” you said, “don’t yearn
for me there is no gain in it for me —”
then you fell silent for a moment
looked at your Diya again, and spoke
“Mother,
do you know what happened? Your tears
of sorrow dowsed it.”
***
By Rafiq Kathwari. His new collection of poems “My Mother’s Scribe” (Yoda Press) is available here and here.