A Pen Of Reed
Once I was embedded in earth,
My roots were short but firm in crust.
I sucked water and swayed with blows,
That flowed to me, from yonder snows.
Me lived in silence and had no blames,
'To stand and stare' were the only games.
Suddenly I felt, a hit below;
I heaved a cry, no one can trow.
I was not standing, no more erect;
My feet had gone, much pained in fact.
My leaves were trimmed, and body got naked;
I felt so sorry, on the dagger and hatchet.
A few days later, was put in furnace
Me felt so hot, saw red my surface.
Cut into pieces and shaped into bundle,
I went to a girl, who held me and fondle.
Happy was she, to hold in her hands,
Forgot those pains, I had in sands.
She went in the kitchen, returned with a knife;
Chopped my head, and made a 'qalam right.
My face was slanted, my nose was cut,
Ready to write, a pen of reed gut.
Now I am teeming, in Tahira's hands
Forgot altogether, those remote lands.
Pen in English, Qalam in Arabic
Now you know, the whole of my fabric.