Safar/Dust in the wind


I was thirty seven, and you,
perhaps three thousand.

Salâm.Sobh be kheyr. Esm e man
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī hast.

Holy darvish,
Kāmil-i-Tabrīzī —
I had not known then
that I had been looking
for you.

           Tarīqāh/Like this

I heard
you put a lock
worth a whole three
dīnārs on your door, left
with the key hanging
from your turban.

There was nothing
in your room, was there —
old rush mat, broken jug,
brick pillow. Exquisite


I have been wandering
all over Dimašqu š-Šāmi,
Madīnat-al-Yāsmīn — where
are you?

            Âtaš/When I die

Yāh Allāh, had you
been looking
for me?

Photo by Rhyan Stark

Kanya Kanchana

Kanya Kanchana is a poet from India. Her poetry has appeared in POETRY, The Common, Asymptote, Anomaly, and elsewhere. Her translations have appeared in Exchanges, Asymptote, Waxwing, Circumference, Aldus, and Muse India. Her flash fiction has appeared in Litro, Paper Darts, and The Conium Review. Kanya is also engaged in practice, teaching, and Sanskrit philological research at the intersection of tantra and yoga. She has an MPhil in Sanskrit Studies from the University of Cambridge.