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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=464251" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Dialogue With The Man Of New Century</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O! Modern man <br>Of the new century, <br>Resting in my back bone, <br>Waiting anxious, <br>For the moment of creation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know, <br>In exultation to become a flower <br>From the seed, <br>Your tiny feet are restless; <br>To touch the terrestrial planet of the Earth, <br>But you wait a little, <br>Stay in the very tavern of creation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the creasy existence, <br>Of this old Mother Earth, <br>The environ of life <br>Is not yet congenial.<br>Sense of hearing <br>Is becoming infertile, <br>On being lavished <br>The words of disgrace; <br>And thousands of un-reflected facts<br>Of life are perturbed <br>To encounter truth for themselves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Though there is a boundless pleasure<br>In your graceful creation, <br>From my own blood <br>And essence of bones, <br>Yet I wish lest you should step <br>Into such a home, <br>Flowers of which that blossom<br>In you own lawn you do not have<br>The right to claim your own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Would you like, your mother <br>Deprived of medical <br>And nutritious facilities <br>During the painful process <br>Of you birth, at the sill<br>Of a very expensive hospital, <br>Collecting in the life blessing lips<br>All unripe kisses, <br>Of your share may die panting <br>Tossing and unattended.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O! God protect us, <br>Lips of the life imparting hospitals, <br>Are yet locked and all angles<br>Employed on security <br>Of the breathing fellows are on strike, <br>For the more privileges, <br>But unaware of felicity of the holiday, <br>The Angle of Death<br>Is busy in picking up the yellow flowers, <br>From the mustard farms, <br>With his death acquainted hands. <br>Who should tell him that all over the world, <br>No one works more than eight hours.<br>Life is being ground <br>Amid mill-stones of the overtime.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O! My child, though attraction<br>Of the Earth is pleasing, <br>Yet in the infertile yard of the school<br>Seeding of the new flowers<br> Is forbidden; <br>And childhood of most of the children, <br>Is passing with <br>Hunger<br>Illness<br>Ignorance<br>Shelterless ness<br>Starvation<br>And playing with toys of war.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your future has been mortgaged, <br>In the lockers of IMF. <br>Will you sell water in the buses, <br>Or polish shoes on the paths, <br>Instead of resting<br>In the blossoming spring <br>Of the lap of your motherhood? <br>Will you like to be branded like me<br>Indebted by birth, <br>For the loan which was never spent on me? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">If luckily you are born alive, <br>From the exterminating womb <br>Of your mother, <br>There is the possibility <br>That police might arrest you <br>Without warrants; <br>Or murder you in a fictitious encounter, <br>And eyes on the spot of occurrence <br>May shut their lids tight, <br>At last who will wish to eat <br>The steaks of his own tongue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O! Man of the new century, <br>The atmosphere is yet replete with <br>Prejudice and stink of explosives; <br>The air is not worth-breathing. <br>In such a season as this is<br>It is impossible to blossom <br>The fresh roses of your thoughts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Calls from the mosques, <br>With the help of damned speakers, <br>Are engaged in the war of sounds, <br>To let the rival down; <br>And on the cities<br>The plague of pollution is descending.<br>Tummy-touching servile tongues, <br>Are protesting against the dish-antenna; <br>The matters against war, <br>Poverty, <br>Hatred, <br>Illness, <br>Ignorance, <br>And exploitation, <br>Have not yet been included in priorities.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">More than half of the world, <br>Is self-dependent <br>In production of children<br>And the remaining half in explosives; <br>The compelled decrepit refugees, <br>Carrying on their heads the packs of homesickness, <br>Are waiting for their return.<br> <br>Tarry awhile! <br>The mother Earth has apologized, <br>To carry the weight of more human beings.<br>Future of the earth<br>Is not yet secure <br>In the hands of human beings, <br>For equal right of all inhabitants <br>On sources of the universe, <br>Has not been yet recognized.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On sudden breakage <br>Of one side of the scale of strength, <br>The lender of the world, <br>Is selling with half scales <br>To the beggar-like customers, <br>Commodity of the New World Order, <br>On the price of self offered terms; <br>And in consequence of fear and rumble <br>Of nuclear explosions, <br>The Earth went through an abortion; <br>And now in the womb of infertile soil, <br>Only radiation breathes.<br> <br>Listen! <br>The future of man on the Earth <br>Is yet uncertain, and he did not learn<br>How to prefer life to death; <br>The armies not yet prepared to surrender <br>Their preeminence, <br>And the mother of the martyred <br>Residing in the neighbourhood <br>Is not willing to concede “wars are not sacred”.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Man is not yet prepared<br> To give priority the problems of war, <br>And survival of the Earth in the agendas.<br>Armies are yet busy day and night <br>In preparation of waging such a war <br>As perchance there will be no one to determine, <br>The Conqueror or the conquered, <br>Once its bugle is sounded.<br>The wish for peace is smouldering, <br>Amid the half burnt cigarettes in the ashtray, <br>Lying on the table of the dialogue. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My babe! <br>Impede your impatient soul traveling to the earth, <br>Overpowered by a thrill of creation; <br>Lest in the journey between the backbone, <br>And shelter of your mother’s womb, <br>Your desire to materialize should turn into nothing; <br>And you could demand from no one<br>Compensation of your blood. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stay! <br>First we should decide that peace, <br>Food, <br>Education, <br>Freedom, <br>Happiness, <br>And on the hygienic environment, <br>Either all have equal right or no one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stay friend! <br>I to get a guarantee of life <br>And survival of the earth have submitted, <br>An entreaty across the seas, <br>And your being or not being, <br>Is conditional with acceptance <br>Or rejection of the appeal. <br>Though your impatience to emerge, <br>Is justified yet I can not greet you abasing <br>On the heap of ammunition; <br>I do not like that after descending <br>Your chariot on the Earth <br>You could not avail yourself, <br>The chance to cut, <br>The cake of the first birthday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Muhammad+Shanazar">Muhammad Shanazar</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=464251" data-title="A Dialogue With The Man Of New Century de Muhammad Shanazar" data-description="O! Modern man 
Of the new century, 
Resting in my back bone, 
Waiting anxious, 
For the moment of creation.

I know, 
In exultation to become a flower 
From the seed, 
Your tiny feet are restless; 
To touch the terrestrial planet of the Earth, 
Bu..."></div>
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