The flirts
Poet: Safdar Bhatti
Many a phantom swirling
in air
of many a sundry shape
and hue
many a myriad time on the
stair of a fragile heart imprint
clue
The heart flutters, fond,
forlorn
takes the apparition to be
true
castles makes in air for a
morn
hourly bloom where
jollities new
but the phantoms, O poor
heart,
spectres straying
everywheres
kindling the bosom, alas,
depart
God knows in what
spheres
leaving the fidgety to
languish
in the day, at night, each
while
the languid poor, an exiled
fish,
writhes on vainhope’s
cruel stile
The flirts
