Half-widow

Come back my beloved, come back!

Oh my beloved

I am full of love for you

Why do they call me your half widow?

Our pillows are full

Of your smell and my lonesome tears

My nights are full

Of your warm memories

My body is full

Of craving for your touch and sight

The tree in our lawn

Is full with fruits

On that cold snowy streets

The cat that you saved

And put inside my warm phirin

Has learned to purr now

Your gifted roses

Have spent their full fragrance

Your love-scribbled letters

Have soaked enough

Of my sobbing nights

The rose on the cup you drank from

Hasn't been watered so long

By your lovely lips

The mirror has grown old

With my face full of wrinkles

The sticks of your kangri are coming out

As if they too are seeking you like me

The clock in our room has stopped ticking

It gave in one evening

When my tears were ticking faster than its hands

Your phirin is worn out and cold

Every night when I wear it thinking of you

Come back and sew it yourself

My eyes are losing sight

I keep losing marbles you collected

For our unborn child

I plead you in the name of my unborn child

Come back and find those marbles once more

The eyes in our mohalla are no longer friendly

Come back and make them friendly again

Doctors keep asking me,

“What is your problem?”

Come back and answer them yourself

Your mother gets angry

When she doesn’t find any signs of pain

On my face

Come back so I could show my heart on my face

Come back to take care of my widowed half