One Evening

(a version of Iqbal)

The half-light of the moon is silent.

Every tree’s branches are silent.

The morning songs of the bright birds do not linger.

The hillside, swathed in green, sleeps.

Even the river slows. The church bells do not echo.

Silence stretches low over the valley.

My heart, you too should try silence.

Invite this sadness in to sleep.