Annual of Urdu Studies, v. 6, 1987 p. 74.


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FOUR POEMS

Black Muddy Slush

Black muddy slush has lapped up the city. Late in the night, who is it that sprinkles salt on wounds9

Telephone first, and then go out to visit I know that you've been friends with him for so long that looking for excuses would have been for you a breach of trust.

This pill is bitter,

but you must swallow it

and remain cautious,

lest someone shut

the door of friendship in your face.

Whether cutting wood or mowing the grass,

it's work,

from which no one gets a reprieve.

You ought to have known

that people aren't always at leisure.

And even if they were,

who wants his privacy disturbed?

Now that we are at it, listen'

Another could have been at the friend's house.

And if you had knocked then,

the tension of strangeness


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