Mine Abbey. Poem by Takbeer Salati

Five years have crossed; ten summers, with the dawn
Of seven long winters! And again my bosom
Steels the voice from your mouth, rolling
From my mountains to your alps.Spring
with a harsh frost of a shipwrecked mariner, tear dipped into time.
Once again do we behold these steep and lofty covered mounts
That on a wide spectrum distance itself
Thoughts of more break hearts, and partings
The geography with the tinge of the misguided hope
The day has come when I revisited the time
Here under the dark light of design, and view
These caricatures of humans.These skyscrapers so high
which at this time, with their materialism
are together in one cosmos, and hoe nirvana!
Mid crises and deaths.Once again I see
These classic entries and exists,
Hardly a little spot of science
Of wolves that run wild;
these shallow sparrow's belied.
These abstract shapes,
Through the space of the ideas hollow
As in a city full of people;
But sometimes in rooms full of voices
In hours of anxiety and urges;
Running deep down in the blood
Through the secret chambers of the heart,
with false satisfaction and fiction
of unhappened events, perhaps
In one of the universe
of you and me, nothing more, I wish,
To the stars, I have owed our light
of love so serene; and young,
In which the tunes of the music
rupture the imagination and thoughts
of this jealous world,
if false, that is brightened and collapsed
in which the gesture failed,
of your mind and mine dead
and even though the rush
of thoughts and sleepless nights
in time of present and dark
while with the heart activity and sane
of love that is the most we feel
we see into the time which is dead and unique
With symphonies of the light and heart,
with souls that lied to the fiction,
explanations, morals, and nature
The dreary intercourses of daily life,
Shall prevail, against us, enemies
Our respected faith and the universe
Is full of delight, therefore let the stars
Shine or thee in thy solitary walk;
and the birds that fly high;
to blow against the time; after time,
while these wild creatures shall be matured
In a sober pleasure, when they mind
shall be a mansion for all lovely sky,
Thy faculty is as a dwelling place.
For music that is not old; oh!
If peace, fear or calm,
Should be thy half, with what belief
Of life will you carry forward,
Of these my realizations, not perceptions-
If I should be at the top
Thy voice, falcon's eye mystique
of past experience-wilt thou then forget
that on the islands of this delightful
we should get together and I FALLEN
A priest of the unmastered art;
Came fluttering its wings-
in far the deeper zeal
of love untamed.Nor wilt thou then forget,
that after my sufferings, many times
of spaces, these nature things,
and this cultural landscape was to me
the horizons, both for myself and for thy sake!