The Country Without A Post Office by Agha Shahid Ali

Posted: July 11, 2014 in Poetry

I am being rowed through Paradise on a river of Hell.
Exquisite ghost, it is night.

The paddle is a heart; it breaks the porcelain waves.

I’m everything you lost. You won’t forgive me.
My memory keeps getting in the way of your history.
There is nothing to forgive.You can’t forgive me.
I hid my pain even from myself; I revealed my pain only to myself.

There is everything to forgive. You can’t forgive me.

If only somehow you could have been mine,
what would not have been possible in the world?

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