By A translation of Poetry
It was my misconception that I called you,
From morning till midnight, I put myself in an anxiety.
You aforesaid me, my beloved-friend mine balance got finished,
Same time I went at shop and borrow loans.
When my borrows crossed one thousands,
I hided myself from Bazar.
When shopkeeper saw me, he stood the way of mine,
I considered him, Jibrael (A.S) came to take out my soul.
Could you remembered you borrow loan from my shop?
Listening his words my abdomen got aching.
I apologized him, I have some indispensable tasks to do them,
He mentioned, “where would you go and do you have ways”?
And put, where would you go coward?
I told him don’t not look me like a Baghoor.
He frightened me, I would inform your Dad,
I warned him to don’t and I may shoot you.
Said, “shopkeeper to forgive me”,
I told him before you pardon my complete borrows.
When I reached at home, my heart told me to call you back,
Sit and have a tiny chat.
I called you and your Dad picked up the phone,
I called the God, my heart got broken.
I apologized to Dad to pardon me,
He added, your phone number have come more than 100 times.
It was my misconception that I called you,
From morning till midnight, I put myself in an anxiety.
-Translated from Balochi into English by Zubair Arif Zeek, Gishkore…….
The writer is a student of University of Turbat (UOT)…….
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