Bring Me Back My Eyes
Bring me back my eyes,
For I shall behold
All colours of the universe.
I shall captivate
The galaxies in my eyes,
And steal all colours of roses
To adorn my countenance.
I shall behold
How the pang of separation
Inscribes lines on the forehead,
How love makes
Hermits the kings,
And union fills
The eyes with stars.
I shall behold
How tears dropp
From the lashes when one weeps,
And if one laughs impulsively
How pink roses
Bloom instantly on the lips.
I shall behold
Why the snakes complain
Against the lady of night,
How the petals uncatch themselves
From the flowerer-flies,
Why the butterflies become
Gloomy seeing the flowers,
Who wrote all the mysteries
On the chest of mother Earth.
I yearn to pick
All seasons with the lashes.
O! My love,
You keep the reality with yourself,
But only once show me a dream
Though glimmering
Like a tiny glow-worm.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Poke Not The Ashes
How pride of the dreams
Shattered in a moment!
And how the bits bled the eyes!
Who placed,
The burning coals on the tray?
Who deserted,
These wrists of yours?
Who erased
The lines of hands?
Who inscribed the pang
Of separation on the forehead?
The descending fog will blow out
The lamps of lashes;
Ah! It is not a delightful fun
To poke the ashes.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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O! December
O! December,
When you come this turn again,
Bring along,
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
Where glimmer galaxies
Of glow-worms,
Where spheres smile,
With the colours of butterflies,
Where all around lingers
Fragrance of faithfulness,
And that who feels it
With the finger-tips,
Or gets its glance
Becomes fragrance incarnated.
O! December,
When you come this turn again,
Bring along
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
Where grains of sand
Are the stars,
Where roses and nightingales,
The months and Moon
Are metaphors of truthfulness;
Where heart is an ocean
With several banks
And where the Deity of Fate
Sparkles in the fists.
O! December,
Ask us not about
The plight our own city;
Here rests in the eyes,
The dust of passed caravans,
Love is cold like an iceberg,
And grows
In the farms of sunlight,
Here when the dawn approaches,
All visions of the night melt
In the form of a thawing heap,
Here prick in the eyes,
Bits of the broken passions,
Here we weave our dreams,
By dipping lashes
In the blood of heart,
Then we live and we die
In those dreams;
Though it is not possible
To stitch words of the ragged soul,
Yet O! December,
When you come this turn again
Bring along
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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You Are Fallen In Love
When the clouds move swaying to the desert,
The roses scent the air lacerating the rocks,
The grains of sand become a galaxy,
The moon becomes envious on seeing the earth,
The waterfalls engender melodies,
Wires of the heart throb on naming someone,
All dreams awake in the dormant eyes,
Autumn begins to converse with spring,
Dusk of the evening perches on the lashes,
Silence on the lips becomes a message,
The season of intimacies begins to linger,
Then you think you are fallen in love.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Let Us Go To The Beach
Let us go to the beach
To weave a golden net
With the lashes,
Dive deep into the ocean,
To thieve melodious tones
Of the oysters,
To pick gust of scent
With the tender tips of fingers,
To touch the pain,
And listen to its conversation.
Let us go to the beach,
To see un-ravished petals
Of the roses
On which dewdrops cheer up
For a while then faint down.
The sand of wanderlust
Troubles the eyes,
Let us capture
The fresh moon-beams
In the fist and steal there
The seven tones from the wind.
Let us both make
An earthen house,
Though for a while,
Yet to smile heartedly.
Let us count there
Those months and years
Which have been inscribed
On the stones and dried leaves;
Let us go to the beach…..
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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December When You Turn Again
O! December,
When you turn again this year,
You bring along
The news of the city which I long for.
The city
Where galaxies glimmer of glowworms,
Where the spheres beam
With the colours of butterflies,
Where all-around is the aroma
Of faithfulness.
That one who touches it,
Either with glance, or with fingertips,
Became perfumed for a while.
O! December,
When you turn again this year,
You bring along
The news of the city which I long for,
The city where grains of sand are stars,
The rose and the nightingale,
The moon and the stars,
Are the metaphors of faithfulness,
Where the heart is an ocean,
And gets several banks,
Where the goddess of fortune
Glimmers in the close palms.
O! December,
Ask us not the plight of our city,
Here eyes are grimed
With the dust of caravan passed by,
Here love is like an iceberg,
And grows on the farms of sunlight,
Here when the dawn emerges,
The exhausted dreams of night
Are dumped and begin to thaw,
Here splinters of broken passion
Prick in the eyes, here we weave
Golden dreams by dipping
Lashes into the blood of hearts,
Then live and die
Amid those fascinations.
Though it is impossible to stitch
The tattered soul yet,
O! December do come and bring along,
The news of the city which I long for.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting
Lady, when I behold the roses sprouting,
Which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours,
And then behold your lips, where sweet Love harbours,
My eyes present me with a double doubting.
For, viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposes
Whether the roses be your lips or your lips the roses.
poem by John Wilbye
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No Longer With Me
There is no more,
A deep layer on the eyes,
I live no more in the fantasies,
So there is no more agony of love.
I live no more on taking and giving,
And in outline of life,
The moment that slipped away,
From the lashes of my eyes,
And from the palms of your hands,
Had been a dream since ages,
But it no longer exists.
On seeing me your bewilderment,
Is a question,
It is true I am the same and you are too,
But my heart that was fond of you,
Is no longer with me.
By Fakhira Batool 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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What Is Love
Love exits since beginning!
Beyond the string of words,
But is a reality.
Love in the firmament of thoughts,
In the guise of clouds,
Always flutters, soars high,
Sometimes contracted into the drops of rain,
Impinges, scatters on the land of heart.
Taking delicacies from the breeze,
And fragrance from the roses,
Colours from the rainbow,
Light from the stars,
Weave a beautiful Anchal,
And from the same Anchal adorns,
Mud-made houses.
Love throws into trials,
Sometimes becoming poetry,
Enhances deference of the words,
Sometimes becoming a tune,
Hums gradually,
It becomes an incarnated eye,
After getting the beloved one,
A strange touch it becomes,
In the alley of the most adored.
Who knows what kind
Of magical utterances it utters,
And hurriedly descends into the close eyes
Of someone with out a knock,
And makes a residence.
Love smiles,
It is a fragrance,
Always abodes in the breath of blossoms,
Such a light it is,
As it turns into moon the dark nights,
And permanent pang it contains,
That has Indescribable tang,
The definition of Love is that it is Love.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A Poem Of Love
I feel as if your eyes have housed in mine,
My eyes which were desert, where
The desire to grow did not find the route,
Now there dance thick shadows of flagons.
My eyes which were thirsty,
Like some cracked clay,
In the smouldering sunlight,
Now scattered are there
The colours of clouds and rainbow.
My eyes had a forest, where shadows
Of suspicion were long and thick,
Where the beams reverted
Before they descended, now there blossom
Sweet scented flowers of all colours.
My eyes contained lakes,
Where no track was visible in moss and marsh,
There fall several lotuses from your neckline,
They sway and show numerous paths.
My eyes bore the Sun,
Each spectacle of green tassels,
Clothed itself the costume of autumn.
There now exist extensive shades
Of spreading branches,
And I sleep a luxurious slumber.
My eyes had a river,
A river that gurgled eroding the banks,
There now glimmer a star of sail.
We have to enkindle a candle across the bank,
Upon my lashes shines a smiling lamp,
Your name emerges upon my lips impulsively,
As if your eyes have made an bode
In the self of my inner existence.
Written By Qayyum Tahir
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Love: A Gift
Love is a gift
For the Special Ones,
It is fragrance of the roses,
Shyness,
Delicacy,
Perplexity,
And tinkle of the petals
Fondness of flower fly,
Silence of the airs;
It contains,
The glimpse of moon,
The shine of stars,
Heat of the sun,
And whisper of the breeze;
Love is a gift,
For the special ones.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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My Love Your Are My Faith
MY Love!
You are my faith,
I am a Heart
And Soul you are my Love!
You bestowed
The dreams to these eyes,
You touched
Tone of the pulsating heart,
Instilled
Scent into breath,
You unfasten
The window of thoughts,
Your touch transformed
The forehead into moon,
Then you stealthy
Stole sparkle from the beams,
Seeing which all of sudden,
The heart fluttered,
The moon smiled.
Who knows how many dreams
You showed
Till the dawn emerged,
You picked
Bafflement of the lashes.
You are the Guest of my Heart!
You are my Faith, my Love!
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Hear Me!
Hear me!
I have to say you something,
“After spreading colours on my face,
Showing dreams to my eyes,
Touching with talks pulsation of my heart,
Filling my hem with a galaxy,
Overspreading my head with an Anchal of faith,
Become not disloyal to depart again.”
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Have You Ever Thought
Have you ever thought,
Why the people migrate
Leaving behind their dwellings;
Any prefer to leave for the world unexplored.
Have you ever thought
How hundreds of lamps of tears enkindle
On the quivering edges of the lashes.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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This Exhausted Moon
This exhausted moon
Is the dream of someone’s eyes,
Those eyes which have been penalized
For being awake.
This moon is agony,
The agony which mixed into dust
In no time, the rosy moments.
This Moon is a response
Of such a question as it never
Has emerged in the mind
Of anyone even by now.
This moon is a chapter
Of some pain, of some union,
Of some separation;
If you confront him ever
Ask the exhausted moon,
Seek a reply from him,
Who caused him soreness
Who awoke him from the slumber.”
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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You Never Loved
You had no experience of love,
If loved why you didn’t ask
From paths about the destination,
You might have written
Any message on the gusts of wind,
Why didn’t you search for the name,
Written on stems of the trees.
You might have remembered,
Fragrant roses soaked in the cold dew,
And the moment
When you touched my colourful Anchal,
We conversed about butterflies
And glowworms, and sometimes
Sketched hearts on the paper-boat
By pouring out the words of dream.
You might have remembered,
Valiancy of the flower-fly
And opening of the buds into petals.
Did you ever love? If you loved,
You could never forget all these affairs.
No my love, you did not love,
You might have seen love,
You might have thought for love,
You might have wished for love,
But you never loved at all….
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Son Of Perdition
Behold the stars that shine above and on the beast newborn.
Behold the man who knows not love, just bitterness and scorn.
Behold the man of ill repute - his smiles that gleam and gleam.
Behold the man behind the suit - his hatred is extreme.
Behold the answers that he shares, his miracles and gifts.
Behold the economic scares and problems that he lifts.
Behold the dark tools of his trade, his sorceries and spells.
Behold the blasphemies displayed as if from poisoned wells.
Behold the leaders in his thrall, the slaves and armies, too.
Behold the devils at his call and what he made them do.
Behold the billions he controlled like puppets on their strings.
Behold the billions in his fold and kings his underlings.
Behold the horns upon his head to match his demon heart.
Behold the souls that he misled, the lives he tore apart.
Behold what God will send to Hell! Unsaved! No remission!
Behold what prophecies foretell... Lost son of perdition...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Why Do You Sojourn In My Dreams?
Why do you sojourn in my dreams?
Sometime
In the form of intoxicated breeze,
Sometimes
With fondness of the flower-flies,
Sometimes
In the wild look of a hermit,
Sometimes
With fragrance of flowers,
Sometimes
In the form of an innocent hope,
Sometimes
In the shape of a moon-ring,
Sometimes
In the type of a string of stars,
Sometimes
In the texture of a woolen shawl,
Sometimes
As a butterfly,
Sometimes
As a glow-worm,
Sometimes
In the style of fragrance.
Why do you sojourn in my dreams?
By Fakhira Batool 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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Make a Search
Search in the world of eyes,
Yes those eyes,
Where your reflection lives,
Where the moon and the star shimmer,
Where flickers a real lamp of true love,
Beholding of which descends
Brilliance inward and out all around.
Search in the world of eyes,
Perhaps you might find the eyes,
But be heeded,
Lest in search of those eyes,
You should lose your own.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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