A Song On Resurgence Of The Earth
War
Begins with the tears,
And peace with smiles.
Peace
Is an enslaved damsel that the warriors:
The guardians of peace captured
And imprisoned her
Amid the walls by force.
What type of life this is,
That the thought of death
Never releases us even for a moment;
Upon my colonies falls
Depression from the sky,
And in dread,
The breasts of mothers have dried.
In my infertile land
Peace does not grow;
It is a an indoor plant
Of the land of the descending Sun
Which is exported to favourite countries
And so is earned the foreign exchange.
The deprived people,
Like us can not afford peace;
For us life is harder than the war,
But life in the clutches of death,
Is demanding its own right.
Come!
Let us compose a new song,
On resurgence of the Earth.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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In The Clutches Of Death
War
Is a mutiny against life
And civilization.
I am loyal to both
Life and peace,
But forced to live
In the shadow of death.
Those who defeated the armies,
Can not defeat wars.
I am in the clutches death,
And all doors
Of deliverance are slammed.
A few warriors have made hostage
The whole humanity.
“Peace and friendship are incompatible”
Is only war viable?
The army
Is busy is bent upon to slam for us
The door of future.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Moon, Peace And The Earth
Those who invented
For me the sullied terms,
Of the Third World
And the South Asia,
Have brought me to the wall.
The wall that does have any door.
I have only one option open to me,
And that leads to the battlefield,
The guardian of peace,
Came out a consultant of my enemy.
It is a season to harvest
The produce of apprehensions,
The army is busy in saddling the steeds.
What kind of fire it is!
Those who feel themselves secure
Are in the clutches death.
Let us borrow a little peace
From the Moon and in exchange
Lend it a little life,
Perchance in such a way,
Some samples of history,
Life and civilization
Might remain preserved on the Moon.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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My Inner-self Is Dead Since Long
The bargain of peace,
Does not award commission;
All favour death,
But I am compelled to beg,
Donations of life,
From the weapons.
Despite we went through
Half a century of trials,
We could not learn from our environ.
The life is changing its costume,
The destiny has proclaimed
That the cockroaches will govern the earth.
My inner-self is dead since long,
War will dispose my corpse,
I am the song whom my contemporaries
Are scared to compose.
The training areas touch our abodes,
We generation to generation
Are the guardians of white elephants.
Someone should pick,
A chew of love from my heart,
To dropp it into hearts of the rulers.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Smoke Is Rising From The Branch Of Olive
War
Is impending over our heads,
And Alla Din of Death,
Having the lamp in his hands,
Is waiting for a signal.
Smoke is rising
From the branch of olive,
To see the blind,
The useless,
And the heap of broken bodies,
Is the fate of our eyes.
I am seeding the flowers,
Life, freedom, and peace.
“Peace through war” is the game
Of weapon merchants,
The powers at war have brutal relation
With one another.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Warriors Do Not Have The Hearts
I am in search of a heart,
In which miseries,
Of my people could breath;
And the warriors
Do not have the hearts.
My people are born,
But without peace and liberty;
They remain alive.
And die.
When we wished,
To speak for our rights,
Our voices stuck,
To the vocal-cords.
We are the numbers,
With which rulers play,
The game of plus and minus.
Hearken! The eye of glass,
Is always sans sight,
I have the song,
But not the voice;
You have the voice,
But not the song.
Let us then sing
The song altogether,
For the birds
Have forsaken to sing.
I in the concert when sing
The song of peace,
In appreciation get disgust,
As if
The people
Have conspired with the Death.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Half Century, Three And Half Wars
Half Century,
Three and half wars.
Our past is our future,
We have not denounced plying
With the mistakes of each other.
My body is the fodder of war,
An in front of my eyes wafts
My decomposed burnt corpse.
I am a song of those tongues
Which have been pulled out of the roots.
My hearing is being eroded
Waiting to listen to the arrival of good tidings.
Armed Forces
Pour into porches of my ears
The lead of Epic,
And Peace,
Has been flinging down exertion,
Into my eyes since centuries.
My Dreams
Deepen roots into my own soil,
In my possession,
I do not have any palace
In Europe.
My dear land that is being enslaved
Is my last abode.
I cultivate my own dreams,
Into the eyes of my own kids.
I urge for the life of peace,
And natural death.
How long we shall neglect our
The most fervent wishes?
At last
We shall have to place out
Our feet from the worn out
Torn shoes.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A Poem For Atal Bihari Vajpayee
My Enemy!
Have you forsaken reading
The writes on the hems of petals
With the hands of dew?
Doesn’t the smile
On the flowery faces of your children
Knock at the door of your heart?
In my hatred,
Have you discarded Woman and Fragrance?
Have you learnt like me
To prefer Death to Life and Peace?
My Enemy!
We both are the weaponed passengers,
Of the same boat, floating
Into the ocean of boundless spaces.
Our interests are different
But catastrophe is the same;
Our follies are making the dreams infertile,
Of the generations,
Who will step into the world henceforth.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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How Will The Earth Look When Lifeless?
We from inward
Have negated violence,
And acknowledged,
From the core of heart,
The glory of creation;
And in a magnificent gathering,
We have pledged,
To render responsibility,
For the survival of life
And the earth;
But to obtain peaceful environment
We have transformed,
Nuclear weapons into home-industry;
For we think that preparations
Of wars only bear peace.
Alla din of Death
Having the magical lamp in hands,
Is fluttering over our heads;
And the earth is listening
To the sound of time creeping in us.
Life has made up her mind
To migrate from the earth.
How will the Earth look when lifeless?
Who will be here to witness after all?
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Next Poem In The Prison
The seed of war grows well,
On the farm of hatred;
I abhor wars,
Though my victory be certain;
I abhor enforced exodus,
And the camps too,
The camps peep out of my eyes,
I am in search of
Absolute peace and liberty,
My search winks at me.
I am with peace,
And my fate is isolation,
I shall write,
The next poem in the prison.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Peace And Love For Me Are Forbidden
Peace and love for me
Are forbidden,
I have been entrusted
The national responsibility,
To show my hatred
To the environment,
Which I am rendering
With utmost sincerity and patriotism.
There dwells fear in my eyes
And my feet are prison bound,
I am being kept away
from light and fresh air.
I am an inhabitant of such a city,
As is destined to be ruined.
In my infertile soil
The plant of freedom
Does not deepen its roots.
I am in a condition like at war,
I was born on the saddle of a steed
And I was first fed
With an edge of a sword,
That made my tongue acidic,
I want to sputter it out.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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An Elegy Of The Earth
I before my death,
Have composed,
An elegy of the Earth,
Which (after war)
Roodali of the Air will sing,
Weeping and wailing,
Sitting amid the burnt
Decomposed bodies.
The Decree of Death
Has been written,
On the pale forehead of the Earth;
Only time is to be fixed.
We are neither afraid of death,
Nor covetous for life,
We only wish to relish in full,
Our natural life before the final ruin,
And it is our right too.
If war is indispensable,
We shall fight it only for our existence,
For our dreams are not
The fuel for the wars being fought on rent.
‘Roodali’ is a professional woman whom the elite class of the Sikhs hires to lament on the death of someone.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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All We Want Is Peace (Please)
Peace, Peace, Please,
Please, Peace, Please,
There’s something we should do
That’s not been done
Something we can win
That’s not been won
Something we can SHOUT OUT
To end all their brutal war games
We Want Peace
Case for war was fake,
Don’t let it fade
More lives can be saved
Got to be brave
Something we can shout out,
We want peace, and we want it right now
Talking is Free
All we want is Peace
All we need is Peace
All we ask is Peace, Please
Peace is all we want
All we crave is Peace
All we miss is Peace
All we lack is Peace
Peace is all we want
Something we can ask,
Before it’s blown
Something we can grow
Before it’s grown
Small green shoots of Peace
To educate next infancy
Believe me
All we want is Peace
All we crave is Peace
All we wish is Peace, please
Peace is all we ask
It’s not a big task
Believe me
It’s easy.
All we want is Peace, All we want is Peace,
All we need is Peace, All we need is Peace.
Peace is all we want,
Peace is all we want
Peace is all we need,
Peace is all we need………………
poem by Gordon David
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On The First Anniversary Of Nuclear Explosions
The pitcher of the Earth
Has got emptied
The water-bags of eyes
Of the damsels going to the fountains
Have dried;
Un-kissed kisses of the damsel of Thur
From the yellow branch of lips
Shed one by one.
The farms
Where my ploughmen seeded Life
Now Death is getting its roots deeper.
On the chest of the Earth
The crops of sores wave,
And half dead colonies: villages and towns
Are sitting on the brims of grave,
Hanging the feet down,
Gilding eyes with a hope of last ablutions.
Those who fight on the front thirst
Their weak eyes gaze at the supply of rain;
In the season of migration,
Greenery and the birds,
Have surpassed the human beings.
The bowls of dried fountains
Far and near are lying turned up;
And on the paths leading to the founts,
The jingles of anklets and bangles
Are lying dead, un-graved, without coffins.
The giggles of children
Left away one by one in the chase of water,
And a thirsty-river
On the paper of sand
Is composing an elegy of Water.
On the forehead of the Earth,
Thirst is inscribed for the descending generations,
Ah! The water of our eyes has dried.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Gaza (Palestine)
Stop the killing
Gaza is bleeding
She's bleeding dying kids
She's bleeding mothers' tears
Where is the leniency?
Let's overcome the inhumanity
Let's live with mercy
Let's have a life without brutality
Now we know the truth
We know the fake peace
We see the lies that devils try to smooth
We will fight for peace
Peace is what we are looking for
Peace screams and wails with every breath
Peace is the world cure
Peace is our desire on earth
poem by Muhammad Raza Master
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I Am A Bride-groom Of War Procession (A War Poem)
Youth
Is the natural right
Of my innocent children.
War
Claims a part of my age;
My back is destined not to become a bow,
Death has built a nest in my chest;
And dread
Travels though my bones,
These my young and warm hands,
Which had been kissed more than often,
By my beloved women
Now are marked by death.
I wish that before my death,
I could take my aged mother in my lap;
Ah! No one is there to shed tears
On the death of Happiness.
I am a Bride-groom of war procession,
Radiation will apply Surma to my eyes,
At the very moment,
Life on my cheeks will die down,
My shoes will sleep in mud prostrate,
And the rags of my shirt,
Will cover nudity of any half-burnt tree.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
Surma: A black stone ground into powder which is applied to blacken the eyes.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Peace Will Be On The Earth
When wars launched for peace,
Will finish by consuming their ferocity,
And they will eliminate,
The signs of life on the Earth,
And when the planet,
Will go singed and lifeless,
Around the sun,
Through the boundless spaces,
All sleeping, silent,
And cockroaches will rule the world,
There will be peace,
Yes! Peace, peace on the Earth.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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An Epitaph Of A Collective Grave
Human race,
On soggy lath of its fate,
Writes suicide.
The window of my eye,
Opens to the future.
For the lap of my Earth,
An epitaph of a collective grave
Is being written;
On the head-side of which
A dried lamp is looking to the way
For mustard of its own share.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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We Want Peace
Here it is once again in our face
Why havent we learned from our past
Were at the crossroads of the human race
Why are we kicking our own ass
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
Were on the eve of destruction my friends
We are about to go too far
Politicians think that war is the way
But we know that love has the power
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
The solution is simple and plain
There wont be peace if we dont try
In a war there is nothing to gain
And so many people will die
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Asia
My Asia!
You have the fever of 105,
That is why its intensity is roasting the world.
I am looking
The War adorns
Your forehead with galaxies,
The archeologists see
Your hustling bustling cities
With ferocious looks,
And there creep into your streets foot-sounds
Of the grave-diggers.
The Harbingers of Peace
(After war)
For the tenders of your renovation
Are growling at one another.
I have to save your children
And your songs
From being trampled beneath the tanks.
My Asia!
I am an inhabitant of the era of War,
And embarrassed on being a human.
Though I am all alone
And empty-handed,
Yet I am an ambassador
Of Life
Beauty and Freedom.
I have come into the world to ward off
The War pounding at your threshold,
But I am continuously ashamed.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Peace - Anybody?
There is a peace talk held today
The land's future is being decided
Everyone must keep his cool
Or all will end in a disastrous coup.
Why is peace so elusive?
Do we really have to triple our effort
For something that must come naturally?
Everyone, I know, needs it.
Why does peace have its price?
Why do we bargain? Why make deals?
Is it a commodity only simple men can afford?
Or is it non-existent after all?
Strange how things work out
For peace, someone must die
For peace, people have to fight - ironical!
Peace we crave and peace there's none.
poem by Lilibeth Sacmar Apat
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