When the cockerels have crowed
When the wind becomes a child
When the atmosphere goes sad
And the cloud-gut sky now frowns
When the silvery white sheet sublimes
And the tiny dots appear
When the lazy fronds type
At the blindness of the sky
When young hearts gather and play
Under the watchful eyes of moonlight
Making merry telling tales
Out of the sunshine of emotion's warmth
When silence becomes louder than noise
And the crickets chant an endless anthem
When Allah's worshippers yawn their prayers
As loud as rapture's blast would
When life's fire is flickered out
And life's light is trimmed down
Even if our light was dark
We could blinklessly say its night.
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