In Quasimodo's jostling stone-cobbled street
From the gulls' wings upon the river's soft thrum
Through the colombes around the clochard's feet
The stray flake of hail flits lurchingly down to me
A little button of water, all stolid and blythe
A gift of water borne by the wind that will be
Slicing through the brown sherlock-coat like a scythe
In the wind, in the sleet, in the drizzletty rain
Flutters the soul that the sun spurs to pain
The screen-burnt eye looks into the grey sky
Where steel birds stir cloud-firni as they fly
And whispers: "Paimana bideh ke khumar astam."
Originally published in Brine Literary, 2018
Hibah Shabkhez is a writer of the half-yo literary tradition, an erratic language-learning enthusiast, and a happily eccentric blogger from Lahore, Pakistan. Her work has previously appeared in Black Bough, Zin Daily, London Grip, The Madrigal, Acropolis Journal, Lucent Dreaming, and a number of other literary magazines. Studying life, languages, and literature from a comparative perspective across linguistic and cultural boundaries holds a particular fascination for her.
Linktree: https://linktr.ee/HibahShabkhez