Soul

The village seems strange; this is separation as if my beloved has left it.
The grief of separation is so cruel that it is not scared of anyone;
When the soul does not leave the body it shakes.
Like a flower withering in the autumn,
Autumn has now come to my love.
I remain alone with my shaggy head of hair
Uncomprehending; my heart has been sad for a long time.
In a flash, it put a hole in my entire world;
Each affair is like an arrow.
Oh Faqir! Better be sad.
Who told you that love is easy?

 Shahzeb Faqir (23 December 2007)

Em artigo no The Guardian sobre o livro Poetry Of The Taliban, Hurst & Company, 2012.