Sonnet
Sometimes in the moroseness of love, I wandered quiet far and regrets I sang. Sometimes I slept on shore of springs, And doom myself for your love's and desire. Sometimes on the heroic brooks I hung upon, To meet my fond and the passion. Sometimes on my hut cottage, I laid my head, And counted the stars page by page. Though you vanish away with your redness, Beyond the hurdles my welfare, I manage. Nevertheless! your voice stayed in my hermitage. ©Affaq Naibe