Beloved Kashmir

This same day in this old country

 The bruise roads leads to nowhere,

Or to the hell, the old heaven

Where the whites of the land,

Are adorned with red

Not of saffron, but of blood

Longing for resuscitation

Every day, every night,

In this stringent and diabolical upgrading land

Longing for the touch of beloved, miles far

Every day, every night,

Desire is grasping at straws

In dire straits

Unheard of voice for three whole months,

The phone bell rings with no hope,

A desperate soul, "are you still mine?"

An exhilarated body,

"Always yours"...

Live Kashmir, live for your beloved.