The Breast of the Moon

The Breast of the Moon

By

Dr. G. Rauf Roashan

The milk of light from the Breast of the Moon

Was sprinkling on the meadow

In the mixture of light and shadow

Shrubs of the spring

Filled with blossoms and flowers

Tantalized by the breeze, were shivering slowly

Here and there

Under a tree

On the skirt of the meadow

Beside a flower bush

People were sitting on lawns

And were narrating stories of fragrance and flowers

And secrets and mysteries of the heart

Hearts of the youth were beating loudly

And were excited while lasses, like flowers, were ogling

The flowers were spreading fragrance

And the breeze was carrying their perfume

Through the curly locks of maidens

And spreading it again on the meadow

The youth were at times looking at the flowers

And on others at the shapely locks

And also the beauty of the lasses

At this height the distance

Between the garden and the stars was shorter

And the moon seemed to be so close

That you could kiss her cheek

The sound of music

Was giving voice to the meadow and the garden

Here and there

People were calling the strings

Of their musical instruments

To songs

And were letting the beats of the drum

Tie the songs to the hearts

Otherwise they were

Extracting from the vocal cords

Of their manly and womanly throats

Sounds and melodies in songs

Groups of maidens

Were pointing the young boys to each other

And were boiling with happy laughter

The elderly were looking at the moon

And were letting the memory and the call

Of love shed flowers on their chests

The fountains

In harmony with the sounds of the night

Were spreading water

And their monotonous sounds

Were putting to sleep all fears and worries

And the moon continued to let

Milk exude from its breast

And the stars to look at the people

Drowned in the milk of the moon

So that they would be happy and

Play the games of love.

The Frigid Tale of Truth

The Frigid Tale of Truth

By

Dr. G. Rauf Roashan

The frigid tale of truth

How calm is the snow?

It covers the devastations of the autumn

How beautiful is the color white

How calmly the snow falls

And how calmly it sits on the shoulders of the evergreen

Geometrical crystals

Like diamonds

With innumerable cuts

In innumerable flakes

Sometimes as if they melt of shyness

And the claim of cleanliness and innocence

Of the destiny they wash

With the tear of the orphan

And the cry of the widow

The gazelles are

Shivering from the secrets of this tale

From the eye of the black raven

A tear as big as that of an alligator

Falls down and freezes

A pack of wolves

Howl from the outskirts of the town nearby

And dances on the white snow

Red with blood

 

 

Karzai’s Pre-Lame Duck Attitude

By: Dr. G. Rauf Roashan

Abstract: Afghanistan is an important country, strategically located with huge untapped and priceless resources for an energy and raw materials hungry world. The world needs peace in Afghanistan and Afghanistan needs help. Security situations in Afghanistan have not improved much. Yet Afghanistan needs to stand on her own relying on her own military and security forces after the international and the US forces leave the country at the end of 2014. But it also seems that there are problems at this important phase of the life of Afghanistan when presidential elections are only three months away and the deadline for pulling out of international forces in just one short year approaching. This article looks at some of the problems.

Continue reading “Karzai’s Pre-Lame Duck Attitude”