The scariest punishment is when Allah stops guiding you.
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@dwntoearth
The scariest punishment is when Allah stops guiding you.
وَلَوْ خيّروني لكَررتُ حُبَّكَ للمرّة الثانِية
And if they made me choose, I'd choose to love you once more
— Nizar Qabbani
𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝙽𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚣𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚎, 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚜 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚉𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊 [𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾𝟾𝟹]
مجرد التفكير بها في منتصف النهار
ينتشلني من رتابة الحياة
ميلر
عندما يدفنونني ستة أقدام تحت الأرض وتبدأ الحشرات في أكل قلبي...
سيتذوقون كل ذرة من الحب الذي
شعرت به تجاهك.
When they bury me six feet under the ground and the bugs start eating my heart...they will taste every ounce of love I have ever had for you.
وما لي غيرُ بابِ اللهِ بابٌ And I have no door [to knock upon] but the door of Allah
Crows over the landscape, July 2025
But I don’t want to forgive the betrayal. // Which means I still carry my own wounds. / I still carry a folded tongue, // burnished with silence; / the sweet nectar of poetry withers.
— Saddiq Dzukogi, from Book Two, Bakandamiya
Lou Salomé, from a letter to Rainer Maria Rilke featured in A Love Story In Letters
Ferny path
Sunrise and an old farm, July 2020
پھر کوئی آیا دل زار نہیں کوئی نہیں راہرو ہوگا کہیں اور چلا جائے گا
No one has come—no one—to this grieving heart. Perhaps some traveler passed by and went on somewhere else.
ڈھل چکی رات بکھرنے لگا تاروں کا غبار
لڑکھڑانے لگے ایوانوں میں خوابیدہ چراغ
The night has waned; the dust of stars begins to scatter. In the mansions, the sleeping lamps have begun to flicker and falter.
سو گئی راستہ تک تک کے ہر اک راہ گزار
اجنبی خاک نے دھندلا دیئے قدموں کے سراغ
Every pathway, weary from watching the road, has fallen asleep. Strange dust has blurred away the traces of footsteps.
گل کرو شمعیں بڑھا دو مے و مینا و ایاغ
اپنے بے خواب کواڑوں کو مقفل کر لو
Put out the candles. Bring more wine, the flask, and the cups. Bolt shut your sleepless doors.
اب یہاں کوئی نہیں کوئی نہیں آئے گا
There is no one here now no one will come ..