Every day my heart weeps,

For you, and sing a sad song,

To see the immortal scenes,

Of your eyes, with attraction along.

 

Either it is love, I know, I not,

But I had experienced since long,

By reading, books and elders thought,

Loving kalams of SALB and other mistics songs.

 

How amazing are these four letters,

For, with a stone can be a bit,

And wittiest person lay his wit,

It is love that exists four letters.

 

It’s blessing on the hands of men,

God gifted them with strength and grace,

In the palace, cottage, huts and hovel,

Love is mighty gift and fits in every place.

 

How divine men and women could be,

Mother is first to guide like sunray,

All true trophies could not fame thee,

Mother’s love is swift from the first day.

 

Speak softly; its lesson you must tell,

All the kinships of your brothers and sisters,

Eternity shall tell, the truth that gllters

No, one fail; if finds with truest spell.

 

Love gives eyes to blind and voice to dumb,

With every eye, every icon equilibrium:

Where blind no more blind and voiceful every dumb,

Charging every prophet, priest, and nun.

 

Love is an ecstasy of soul to fly,

Passioned every man and woman heart’s higher:

To lift them from earth to sky,

And wear the coat of sweetness dearer.

 

Oh! Chieftain how old you are? I know not,

Are the product of the fruit of apple,

And or before since above what;

I don’t know, but God and His Angel.

 

Truest in the world and truest above,

Heaven in the world and heaven above.

 

~Saleem Raza Jakhar (Amar Shaw)

Sindh, Pakistan