Love: A Mystery
(Written By Javed Ahmed Translated By Muhammad Shanazar)
O! Love your existence is mysteriously baffling,
You are in the scattered shattered heart,
And with the intact ego too;
You invent the devices of cruelty,
And you are with the loyalty, fidelity too;
Your manners reveal a tale of darkness,
And enlighten the lamps of pleasing light
And then you are with the gushing blows too;
You are in the fondness of beauty,
You throb in the redness of blood,
And in the colour of Hina too,
Strangely relates your colour to my heart,
You are with the fragments,
And with the cracking sounds too,
Mosque, temple and church all are your prints,
You dwell in the features of idols,
And reside with God too,
You move in the evening gale and with the breeze too.
You move in veins with blood as intoxication,
And pulsate with the palpitating heart too.
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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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
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Let Us Confess
O! My love,
Separation of centuries
Ensued between us,
But the son of love
Still shines in the heart.
Though we parted
Yet remained loving;
Let us confess that we dwell
In the heart of each other.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
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Cuscuta
Written By Sughra Sadaf
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
Some unknown pangs
Gripped, caught my giant like existence,
All gloom of the world has contracted
In my inner-self; but it all happened
In such a way that all springs of your love,
And showers of your fondness,
Altogether
Can not remove my pangs at all,
Can not recover me from pain at all,
But you must know there waits yet behind,
Remedy of your spitefulness.
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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An Old Belief
I shall write on my palm,
In the colour of henna
The same old belief
“Whatever it happens,
Men are never faithful.”
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Red;
Red is the colour of anger welling up inside me,
Red is believing and then having doubt,
Red is the colour of love and romance,
Red is the colour of the end of my nose on a cold winter day.
The colour of little red riding hoods coat,
Red is mars high up in the sky;
The colour that flushes my cheeks after playing sport and getting embarressed.
The colour of my sore sad eyes after crying.
Red is the colour of my warm blood flooding my veins,
Which shows Human Bondage,
Which shows the life within me,
Red is the colour of ambition burning my soul,
Red is the colour of the devil, which feeds me my power.
poem by karlia Ashlyn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Heart
Let me live and thrive in your heart
Let your hearts blood pulsate through my veins
For with your blood, I’ll never be the same.
Each pulse will take me to places I’ve never been before
And it will last forever more.
I will go thru twists and curves
And with each curve my love will burn.
And as the body needs the blood to survive
I need your heart around each side.
Surround me with all the love that you have to give
So that my soul can survive and live.
As I travel through each vein and artery
I feel your beauty flowing inside of me.
How can anyone s heart be so clean and pure?
Like the oceans beating against the shores.
Bringing everything to the surface
For all the world to see.
This is the love that you have given me.
Your heart is the key
That holds all knowledge and uncovers all the mysteries.
poem by Louis Rams
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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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Yes I Am Friendless
Yes, I am friendless,
Yes, he showed me a dream,
Then made me a victim of his tyranny;
When the train of my tears broke,
They brimmed the bowl of my chest;
And when the Sun went asleep,
Someone burnt with out fire.
On all sides around there surges blood,
All move with no gain; but with pain,
Who will make out here the fellow beings?
Here all chatter their own matters,
Everywhere there is helter-skelter,
Ah! Here we all are felons.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The true colour of life is the colour of the body, the colour of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.
quote by Alice Meynell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Forgot Me at Last
In the despised season,
In the dripping drops of blood,
Only awakens sadness.
I read somewhere
Or heard someone,
It happens that this sadness
Being indifferent and heedless
Nips all of sudden,
Delicate buds of memories.
Hearken!
My heart goes through a fear
Lest you should forget me,
Lest it should happen in such a season.
O! My love,
This was that I said to you,
But happened the same
You forgot me at last.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Still Life
O Children of my poor country!
Children with scattered traits of faces!
Children innocent since beginning!
Children sweeter than the ripe fruits!
Whenever I munch an entire loaf,
Your deficient bodies,
Undreamt dreams and callous world,
Make me shed tears of blood;
Trouble me from the core of my heart,
And envenom my each victual.
Alas! I could entrust to your delicate hands,
Such a quill which could write,
Sharper than a dagger,
And intents of the brutal could break
Into shards in an instant,
And could write your fate quite afresh.
O Children of my poor country!
Written by Sabina Riffat
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am A Mother
I am a mother and I know,
My child,
When and why calls me,
What makes him weep,
And what makes him smile,
When he takes respite,
And how he giggles.
I am a mother and I know,
But when he will be grown up,
He will disclose his heart,
And sometime conceal the truths
Assuming
That the mother is ignorant of all,
Being at home what will she know,
He will come home late devising pretexts,
And at that moment,
I knowing all will show indifference,
For it is the nature of mother.
How can my son know,
That motherhood passes through
His veins in the form of blood,
If he gets a prick of thorn the mother tosses,
Where ever he goes,
He remains cosseted amid,
The invincible siege of prayers,
He remains in the heart of mother.
Whenever he steps ahead,
And wherever he goes
The Anchal of cool shadow
Remains with him,
I am a mother and I know him all.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intercourse Giggles At Me
They have slaughtered my golden day
In front of my eyes,
And my mournful voice was repressed,
In the durum beats of celebration.
I am digging a grave,
In the soil of my heart.
Death
Breaks into my love brimming heart;
My people
Have forgot to feel affection for life,
And they growl at one another
With brutal sounds.
I have a menace
In front which I did not risk,
My nose,
Has died for perfumes;
And a dread
Has squeezed all tastes of my tongue.
Every night one fear lies down
Before my wife reclines beside,
Intercourse standing afar
Giggles at me,
And my bed-room
Chucks me out of the door.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Us Suppose
Let us suppose,
In case you had been faithful,
I would see the dream of life,
Expostulate with the fortune,
Dwell in your heart,
Would make you my own,
Would have never
Bothered the world,
In case you had been faithful.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Had There Been No Defeat
He said “Defeat is very deep
As deep as an ocean,
That who drowns into it,
He never emerges up,
So make conquest tradition of love.”
I said “No doubt it is a deep mystery,
But think a while,
If there had been no heart in the chest,
Where love would have been,
Had there been no defeat in life,
There would have been no existence
Of love in the world.”
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who can be She?
She is who toils day and night,
Enkindles lamps spreads light,
In the celestial world of minds,
Gives the blind the gift of sight.
Rills of loyalty in her heart flow,
That water gardens where roses grow,
The lovers of poesy get in hands,
Garlands of poems that ever glow.
I know not why my heart wishes to adore,
Those who dive deep and bring ashore,
Gems, pearls and the beads of thoughts,
And distribute the stones door to door.
Her mind is flamed and blood is hot,
Her efforts will cause a change a lot,
The pride of age, the guiding star,
Who can be she? Melyssa Sprott.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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