A Treasure
Packed in an old trunk,
Beneath the worn-out garments,
And the torn pieces of paper,
Amid the charms and devices of spell,
In a rusty box of metal,
Beneath the fading photograph,
The coloured silky sari that lies
There with a red golden lace,
And glistening stars,
Is dearer than the soul,
For an unfortunate aged woman.
Written by Naina Adil
Translated by
Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Season
Written By Sughra Sadaf
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
Since you have altered you looks,
It is strange they have changed
The season of my inner-self.
The stars of my eyes,
The spell of my words,
Fragrance of my breath,
They have been taken away
From me, my all assets.
Now you do not come in springs,
And in autumns you make me eager,
I don’t know why it happens
In the patio of my inner-self,
There is a static season of autumn,
Sometimes it comes from this way,
And sometimes encroaches from that side.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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An Effort
Written By Sughra Sadaf
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
The moon your face,
The night your locks,
Your eyes the ocean,
Your voice the spell
Your breath the fragrance,
I have regarded.
Lo! What a kind of wonder
I have performed.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Spectacle Of The New World
Written By Sughra Sadaf
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
I urge for the rainy season,
And joining of the hearts,
The wet soggy nights;
And whispering in silence.
The moon be in the sky,
And I in your company wishing
For the beams being rained
From all sides around,
Breaths be packed with perfume,
And all colours enter into
The threshold of eyes.
There would be honeyed tones,
And broken all walls of hatred amid
The steady secured spectacles,
And all around be worshipped
The Deity of Love,
And life be a fruitful endeavour,
Hopes reside in the eyes,
And words of good wishes on the lips.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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From Behind The Worn-out Grave Of Time
From behind the worn-out grave of Time,
Death,
Sends me a message;
I am a thick shady tree of creation,
The poems chirrup in my tassels,
But Death
On my stem brimming with life,
Inscribes the song of inaccessibility.
Written by Dr. Jawaz Jaffri translated by Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Science Is Killing Us All
Holding the hem of an old worn out dream,
We have reached a footpath.
In the callous streets
Of the hilarious city
Making the atom bomb
Our covering
Keeping begging bowls in the hands
And arms on the fore-heads
We are dormant all oblivious.
Amid the fodder
And the crop of swaying starvation,
Our tossing children
Sleep every day
On the worn out carpet of patriotism,
Tasting the flowing salt of their eyes
And licking the long-ranged missiles.
Long lurking militant tongues
Are bent to represent the weapon-adorers.
Life
Love
Who is the ambassador of Freedom?
Our skills are consumed,
In always chiseling the weapons,
Yes; Science is killing us all.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The End
The affair advanced,
In such a way,
He sent me a rose,
I opened the book,
Placed amid the leaves,
And kept it hidden
From all spying eyes.
At last it happened
There remained behind,
Nothing else except,
Some dried petals, and a little
Perceptible fragrance.
By Fakhira Batool 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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Difference Between God and Man
The world,
God created
In full six days,
Man is competent
To destroy it
In six minutes.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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After You Had Gone
Only a little happened
At last
After you had gone,
Love, fondness, faith and trust,
Erased themselves
From the pages of dictionary
Of my life, in such a way
As they never had been there.
Written by Saamee Aejaz Translated by Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Reaction
Written By Sughra Sadaf
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
He who regards me a half being,
He must know at least,
How much complete he is.
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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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XLII: What Lies Beneath
beauty lies beneath
sense lies beneath
secret lies beneath
character lies beneath
rule lies beneath
mind lies beneath
past lies beneath
foundation lies beneath
root lies beneath
dark hole lies beneath
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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There Exists Someone Around
Written By Sughra Sadaf
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
There is someone around,
As hard as a rock,
But invisible as wind;
I can neither see Him nor hold,
Nor He has any shadow.
Sometime He seems like a dark cloud,
That often surrounds my entity,
And supports my hand
By not letting them down,
Someone props when I uplift
Them for a prayer.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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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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My Head Bows Before The Quill
In the dale of death,
I have taken the risk of favouring life,
I have been entrusted an obligation
To contemplate,
Amid those who have apathy against thinking;
It is just like to enkindle fire
With stones in the snow fall.
The leading heads are betrothed
To blemish countenance of the Earth,
And my head
Only bows before the quill.
I resting my feet on a heap of explosives
Have raised my hands for prayers,
The birds,
With hopeful eyes are looking at
The extended nest of my hands.
Written by Dr. Jawaz Jaffri translated by Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A Dream Of Some Other Soil
The sky of my own share
Has wreathed Himself
With the cover of monotony;
And my eyes,
In the azure page of the sky
Has written boredom
In the eye-sight.
Now these eyes,
Dream of some other soil,
Some other season,
Somewhere here around
In the neighbourhood of my Earth,
There lays some hidden route
That I seek for,
And waits for inaugural gathering,
For some unseen world.
Written by Dr. Jawaz Jaffri translated by Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Rain Of Memories
The rain of memories,
Rains incessantly,
Even though leaves of dream,
Break, crack creakingly;
All birds of hope one by one
Have become annoyed.
O! My love, come back soon
Lest this heart
Should change into barren-land.
Written by Saamee Aejaz Translated by Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Last Day Of Life On The Earth
The womb
Of the earth is bleeding,
Perhaps
The last day of life on this
Planet has reached;
The same day, when
The air will begin to simmer;
And the space
To quench its thirst will gulp
The seven seas.
War
Is constantly in our chase,
Let us to save our lives
Should flee to the Mars.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Pity
He demanded
My eyes from me,
The black lace of lashes,
Shy rosiness of the cheeks,
All sparkle of the face,
Pinkness of the lips,
Dark night of the locks,
Golden sunlight of the forehead,
Curling hair, and ear-ring,
All grace of innocence,
Immature charm of youth,
Silvery arms,
And essence of the existence.
He demanded and I granted all,
But the secret has revealed today,
All affairs of love
And loyalty were transient,
Emotional and fleeting,
He nourished only pity for me
And not love.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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An Incentive
Alas! Some strange dream,
In their colourless lives,
Should raise such a tempest,
As your love,
Fused into my blood,
And keeps me in fervour,
Enkindles my heart,
Places my entire self in commotion,
Provides me with the cause to live,
And titivates my face like a moon.
Written by Sabina Riffat
Translated by Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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