To me, it is a matter of sublime joy
That the caged birds I observe are really few
But there’s abundance of those birds
Who are unshackled, make no cry and hue
To me, it is a matter of sublime joy
A fish can never feel bondage
All it needs, immense water to live
With no extended vision to exploit the age
To me, it is a matter of sublime joy
The flowers have limited time to bloom
Whether they remain intact with a bough
Or a pore of hand makes them gloom
To me, it is a matter of sublime joy
A man needs these things occasionally
‘Cause he craves for birds, flowers and fish
Just to trample them pessimistically
Published in The Nation, Sep 05, 2003, Weekly MAG, Dec 27-02 Jan, 2004.
Muhammad Mahtab Bashir
ISLAMABAD.
mahtabbashir@gmail.com
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