The Herder Poem by AFFAQ NABI

Jamil, the herder when he returns to his Titicaca's home,
Zoya prepares herself to groom after doing all
The small works, like filling the honey berries into bottles,
[The hive bee lies on the chimney shelf].
Like grazing the ducks in Titicaca rainy lake,
Like creating her amazing seashell small crafts,
On sundays, she sells these at the retail show.
Jamil, often enters his home late in the evening.
As soon as he knocks on the door with three bells,
Zoya yells, 'Wait a while, my herder; I am watching
This pretty flock of seagulls
might enter
Our summer cottage, with their divine nector, understand
My herder, you have left me to live on sand.
With waste and needles' and then Zoya weeps.
On her fate that long ago, her father made.