Let Marie, squeeze sweet Suman and pour vin into goblet;
I shall play the mandolin, in crimson evening,
My mate, and you'll sing in hoary-willow a sonnet,
Imagine this evening' ll not return so pretty pleasing,
The shirtless beauty of Karakoram have smitten,
Ahh, mine drowsy eyes, and poetic *****,
There is  lovely poetry that is yet to written,
These rocky hills and ridges reveal lore of sofism,

How sweet shining, upon the dimple of karakorin !
This alpine marvel, kindled a light of love in me,
In my verse, I paint, what I saw a pleasent decorum,
Walk beyond me, over cliffs and reefs,
Marie, my mate!
How sweet, I wander from dunes to plains,
I taste the rainy seasons I found the remains,
Of princes kata rani, her coins spikes, and kute kol.
I found lofty villa's that were once safe and warm,

Some lay in ruins, some held by the storm,
The white dove's hum and play in the ring,
Let's swing, awhile in the joyful spring,
Rosa and suman, will make our bedding,
Underside of meadow-bright  dom.
Nymph's of azure heaven will sing, a nupcial song,
O! winds in the willows: walikum-salaam...

Rights reserved
Affaq Nabi

An evening in Gulmarg
                 -----------
The dale of flowers in heart of rising himalaya:
Where sun rise's beyond far green cidar trees,
To please the azure lux skies---

And birds of the bush, sings and laughs, nigh,
And eternally, mirth lulls into eyes the mirth,
Oh! be ever, for me--ahh, sweet earth---
Where, Gulah can be seen, in the echoing green,
Wooing with the flowers day and night,
The snow-whistle, and summer shallow, side by side with suman and sumbal keenly looks on,
To welcome into valley-the spring---

And fairest fountains leap up jolly jolly,
And that- Bard sitting under an oak, plays his harp, among the native folk,
"Oh! my dear melancholy"---

Overjoyed, wood winds play the music,
And maple leafs dance in their rhythm,
Heart sinks down for awhile in an ecstasy
It resounds like, as a festival of holy---
And lucy! swings-un fearing
on the green grass,
There is naught a dilemma of upper or lower class,
Still sound of joy, the nature sings round the clock---

O! liberty! come on hurly,heart is unquiet,
A rainbow dwell's beside it,
Yet, bonnie beauty is in it's reflection,
Garden of eden! gracias for your kind affection-

Rights reserved
@Affaq Nabi

How much alone---
I feel  after he depart today,
How much alone---
How eye open from the caps,
As he come nearer to me,
Like as someone awake
From a sound asleep,
I 've seen in these eyes,
The smelling scents,
How much alone---
Here and now,
Afar from the world,
I am sitting, a coqutish lovely,
How much alone---
Without love this self,
Is like as a palace,
Hush hush, living alone,
It's windows feel a scream,
For ray of light,
How much alone I feel,
My soul it did smite.....

Somewhere far! when day may past-
And these eyes: paar; in waters's melody may lost-

Someone! may walk into backyard of my sights-
And may!
encender the candle of delights-

Then out of those past sandhills-Some voices would raze-
Some of grief! Some of glee!

And some'll shuffle me to smile-
Some may make me to weep-

Then someone! a moon like fe fe-
May take me in her eyes-
And lull me to slumber-

Within the melody of aire-
Along moves and cheers of umber-

Somewhere far! When day may past-
And these soft-spoken gentle eyes...
---Affaq Nabi

Neither this moon'll be there---
Nor the stars'll remain,
But I will be for ever yours---
Sight was searching for you
Then sought you---
Neither this moon'll be there,
Nor the stars'll remain---
With flowers of desire,
I've dressed up the brim---
In eyes I 've settled,
The meads of aspire---
By your beam,
Is the blues and rhythm of my *****--
Neither this moon'll be there,
Nor the stars'll remain---
You don't know,
How much I love you---
Every hour I want to hug you,
My rock dove---
Neither the moon' ll be there,
Nor the stars'll remaim----

By:Affaq Nabi

Neelum

Neelum (beautiful sapphire always shinning bright)
Neelum is a resting place of
of this blue shimmer.
Where joy lulls into eyes the joy,
And worries vanish.
Like dim, dusky clouds from gracious ezman,
While happy day sinks into sweet night,
My purple past prime,
Comes into eye like leaves on willow tree!
O! you love!
Though naught your's! but you yourself hither live,
The beauty which you bear on tenant,
Notice no prejudice or apartheid,
My love;
When you bear a baby!
You know:
She may receive it **** beauty in heirs'y-
You be mine love-
And she'll use its sapphire treasury-

By:  Affaq Nabi
@ Rights reserved