Evening Poem Poem by Nabi Azad

Indescribable rain in our sleeping scene,
as if I tearing the book,
you too.

You are ready with black darkness from the box of clouds.
I turn over the memories as well as turn the pages.

Festival of neat fountains,
continuous life,
rehearsal of drama,
evening of poetry.

Whether I will take it or not,
whether I will give or not,
the wobbly water is stuck,
a bunch of reptiles are dying, indifferent.