THE RISING SUN

In the realm of morning's vibrant grace,
The sun arises, with a daring face,
"Awake, arise," it boldly seems to say,
"Let lovers heed this new-born day."

But why, O sun, so rude and rash,
Do you intrude and boldly clash?
Through windows, curtains, you disrupt our peace,
Must love and seasons bend to your ceaseless lease?

A saucy pedant, oh, your impish glee,
Go scold the late schoolboys in their spree,
Inform the court huntsmen of the king's delight,
Summon the country ants to labor through daylight.

Yet love, you see, knows not the bounds of time,
No hours, days, or months in its sublime rhyme.

Your radiant beams, so strong and bright,
Why challenge me to darken your light?
A mere blink could hide your dazzling view,
But I dare not lose her gaze, so true.

If her eyes, O sun, have not dimmed your sight,
Look once more, and tomorrow tell me right,
Whether the spices and treasures you adore,
Lie there untouched, or with me, evermore.

Ask for those kings you've glimpsed on high,
And you'll find them here, in our bed they lie.

She embodies all states, all royal grace,
In her, all distinctions find their place,
Princes and their games, they pale, they cease,
Before the splendor of our love's release.

Sun, you're but half as joyful as we,
In our world, life's essence, pure and free.
As age seeks respite, and duties wane,
Yours to warm the world, ours to sustain.

So shine upon us, let your rays unfurl,
This bed's your center, here, in love, we swirl.

Imran Nazeer
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