Osman Gani Biography

I felt a drunkard in my fanciful sixth sense.
The pond seemed to me the Sea of Aegean
And the floating leaves warships of Greece,
Thousands in number that fought for Helen.
...

Swirling, raindrops fall on glassy windowpanes,
Then dribbles and shrinks into countless pieces.
My life is scattered too into such floating veins,
Packed with memories in stanzas, lines, phrases.
...

Mother! You offered me life, risking Your own.
You bore all pains to show me this earthly light.
You held my fragile head as if a precious crown
And nurtured my weak body each day and night.
...

The angels that never fall
But treads, treads, treads
On the filthy foul roads
Of cruel cynical world.
...

Behold there, a Somalian child is standing upon dry hard rocks.
Its two eyes glitter like a rough diamond, parched, bleak and dark.
Its belly exhibits the fragile bony ribs and silently mocks
The phony Art that seeks phony beauty even in wounded scar-mark.
...