ask me not what makes me go on …

to the rocky ridges and valleys beyond

for the sake of the sweet smell of pine

I trek along the mountain’s spine

from the mountain’s top to the meadow’s lake

for flowers wild my fingers ache

my life as if hung on a line

drunk I am with streams alpine

I know not if I am in pain

with open arms I embrace the rain

I’ve slept under the stars and trees

in the moonlit sky bent on my knees

for what? I do not know I pray

tearful yet my eyes betray

to loose the feel and sense of time

to be a mere walking shrine

to blend along the colorless wind

ah! No I don’t belong to Sindh

so ask me not what makes me go on

a broken heart or feelings torn


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