Poem No. 9
The Feed
Holding a grain of millet in her beak.
The mother sparrow has come to feed
The young ones ate so tiny and small
From head to toe they are beaks
When they cry.
One grain to be fed to the ten young ones.
To whom the mother sparrow should feed?
Conjoining beak with beak
With whom should she solace?
Fissuring the atom,
You have learnt to set life on foot
Could you spilt the grain?
Once grain to be fed to the ten young ones.
(Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi)
