Shhh,
Speak softly, for the night sky is asleep,
With a quilt of clouds pulled up to its chin,
The cobalt blue head rests quietly on a slight pillow of
stars.
It reminds me of a child’s slate, clear, but just about,
Like a town without electricity, silent and distant, closed
to visitors,
Its slumber is restful like the snores of a weary bear,
Like stagnating waters, it has settled in deep,
Like the family of six huddled on the cold pavement outside. |
| The Song of the Sufi Masroof |
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