Every tree seems a temple,

Dark, desolate, old,

Long seeking excuses for its ruin.

Each turret cracked, each arch decayed.

The sky is a priest who sits under the turrets,

Body ash-rubbed, sindur on palms,

Head bowed, silent . . . who knows since when.

.

It seems that behind the curtain some wizard

Has cast a spell on the horizons

And now evening is forever tied with Time.

It seems that Time will never end, darkness will never come,

Nor will night cease, nor dawn rise.

.

The sky hopes for the spell to break,

For the silence-chain to shatter, for time to break loose,

A conch to cry out, some ankle-bell to ring,

For an idol to come to life, for some beauty to doff her veil.

.

          

 With C. M. Naim

.

From: Yāden̲ (Remembrances), 1963. pp. 31 – 32

Shām is quoted in full in Urdu Poetry, 1935-1970