An Astrologer

He sat beside the road,
And was busy in telling the people,
What fates have been ordained,
I impulsively stopped beside him,
And inquired,
“What fortune is you own,
Do you know? ”
He became distressed,
Then he composed himself
And responded,
“Lo! How deep is creased
The line of swindling at my palm.”

By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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