These hills are a witness to my love
And these winds know your name.
But if others ask you, just turn away,
They would not want you to say
That your powers permeated me
And threw me on the threshold of mortality.
These birds will whisper in my ears,
Time will stand still, frozen in the years.
I will die drugged with this opiate,
But don’t let the wind debate
That I longed for life in death
And love poisoned my last breath.
These hills have kept us apart,
Barricading the matters of the heart.
I saw you: a victim of language and light,
Struggling to confront an unconvincing fight.
But such is the sorrow of human frailty,
Love blossoms in the arms of enmity!
You fought better than any man,
Thwarting every conniving plan.
The sabre spilled your rebellious blood,
Your wounded horse fell in the mud,
The man in me died that day
When the soldier looked the other way.
The most beautiful Oriental flower
Lay crushed in the clockwork of the hour.
Most brave and courageous of them all,
Your divinity rose in your fall.
I saw the fires engulf my life,
My conscience burnt with rumours rife.
Sometimes on dark stormy nights,
Beyond the expanse of the aurora lights,
I see your human form beckon to me.
My uniform is hung, the man in me free,
But dense clouds overcast my inside,
I think about the stigma and decide to hide.
© Jaspreet Mann