From valleys where the saffron blooms,
And Chinar\'s shadow gently looms,
A voice arises, soft and clear,
Sehrab\'s words, a soul held dear.
Of mountains kissed by morning light,
And whispers carried through the night,
He weaves a tapestry of sound,
Where ancient stories can be found.
The pain of loss, the hope that springs,
The beauty that the valley brings,
He paints with verses, rich and deep,
Secrets that the mountains keep.
His words, like dewdrops on the grass,
Reflecting skies that swiftly pass,
A poet\'s heart, both wild and free,
Sehrab\'s voice, for all to see.
Through melodies of love and grace,
He finds a solace, time and space,
To share the stories of his land,
Held gently in his hand.
So listen close, and you will hear,
The echoes of a love held near,
A poet\'s soul, both strong and true,
Sehrab\'s gift, bestowed on you.
By Sehrab Sathoo