There I was, all pink and white,

Cuddled in the garden of love,

No woe there was, no fear, no fright;

Flowers swinging with breeze above.

All blossomed to full as spring approached,

And breeze I had gentle known:

With bouncing youth, anxiety coached

In the windy form was shown

Yet faded again both wind and I

When dreary age enthralled,

Till finally it turn’d a hurricane, and sigh!

Dry leaves on my grave strolled.

Copyright © 2002 Khalid Raza Khan