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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Another War Across The War
Your long-ranged missiles,
Perforate
The chest of my days,
The injured sunlight has lost
Its gold.
There is another war
Across the war,
And in between ensued
A brief pause,
That U.N.O insists upon
To call it peace;
In fact
It is a break to make
Fresh arrangements,
To launch another war.
Wars get nourishment
From our bodies,
The boundaries
Are the factories of wars;
I shall neither fight
For monarchy,
Nor for democracy,
Even the sacred armies
Have fallen
From the lashes of my eyes.
I shall only favour
For pace,
I am ashamed of those flowers
And birds who are compelled
To become fodder
Of wars of Man:
The crown of creation.
(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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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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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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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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An Army Ensnares My Dream
A dream chases me,
I always seed the forests
Of olive in the dream,
So that the inhabitants
May breathe fresh air,
And could live natural length life.
A dream chases me,
And an army ensnares my dream;
Now my dream has begun
Peeping out of my eyes.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri 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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Dreams and Weapons
We are the astray travellers,
Of South Asia,
We have purchased weapons
by selling our dreams;
And always preferred to form forces
To the starving children.
Now in our deserted courtyard
The trenches slink,
And blood-claiming Furnace of War
Gazes at our well grown up bodies
With capricious eyes.
War
From behind the table of dialogue
Whispers to us,
And the starved graveyard
By steadily creeping,
Has reached walls of the city.
On the branch of our helpless eyes,
The dream of prosperity and friendship
Is withering.
The moment is alert, awakening in my blood,
When these forces … in front of my eyes
Will ravage ruin Beauty and Life.
Only Death will be alive to discriminate
Between the conqueror and the conquered,
And Silences,
Will celebrate the event on our half burnt bodies.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A Knock
Ere the weapons,
Dispose us all, we should
Dispose the weapons.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A Poem In 7000AD
(1)
In a city of the footpaths,
More than everything are the houses of God,
And at every door of the house,
It is inscribed in the ink of hatred,
“Only the people of a specific sect
Are allowed here to offer the prayers.”
(2)
After some times,
The earth will gulp into the belly,
The same city divided in blocks,
On its place the earth will bring forth,
A new fertile city whose inhabitants
Will not obtain food
From the heaps of muck.
(3)
After five thousand years,
An old archeologist,
In shadow of the drowning sun,
Will discover again,
The same buried city;
And on the chipped worn out stone
Of the ruined worship house,
Will be an inscription
In a mysterious language
And he after having read it
With troublesome attempt,
Will say with a tone of certainty
To his beloved peering into her eyes
“Definitely such cities as this was
Had no right to exist on the Earth.”
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Journey Irritates My Soles
Give me
The wages of my hands,
So that I could dig the earth.
I have dug a canal of milk,
And consumed myself for you;
Keeping nothing reserved for myself.
I accept not
The guidance of my own belly,
I am lavishing my days hurriedly,
The world
Is lying under my heels,
Wheezing, panting for the last breath,
I have sheltered myself in my fist,
I am latent keeping the bundle
Of my dreams beneath my head.
Journey irritates my soles,
Here bellies of the people
Scuttle ahead faster than the feet,
But I have cut asunder
My belly and left it far behind.
In my gardens the birds are reducing,
In the sky of my share a holocaust is inscribed,
The lap of my Earth is going to be desolate soon.
(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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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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Dejected Girls Residing On Both Sides Across The Boundary-line
South Asia
Is alert for the rental war,
Craters
Are ready to replace with the courtyards
Hustling bustling with the children.
Seeing death having a sojourn,
Around my larynx life has returned,
In eyes of the weapon dealers.
O! My young soldiers,
I am against slaughtering, sacrificing,
Your healthy innocent bodies,
At the altar of ferocious god of war;
For I love you,
I am struggling for your liberty,
And beaming future.
O! Life imparting women of Asia,
You learn how to express
Abhorrence against war for it is jealous
Of your motherhood
And matrimonial pleasures,
And is bent upon to hand over
Your beloved husbands
To spiteful darkness of the graves.
O! Dejected girls
Residing on both sides across the boundary-line,
Your laughter only can depose the war.
(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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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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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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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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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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A Thorn In The Feet Of Humanity
28th May blackened
The clean countenance
Of my calendar,
And ruined
The days of future into rubble.
On that day
We turned our back
To our survival.
The sneaking era
Entangled around our feet,
And we could never rise
From that period.
Now
The smoke will spurt up
From our well furnished houses.
A dreadful explosion,
Perforated
The existence our dream.
Now we are alive
But with the dread of Death.
A half burnt corpse
Of a young solider
Haunts me in my sleeps;
It had in its cold hands,
A crumbled picture
Of a damsel who resides
On some remote unknown seaside;
And in her golden eyes
‘To wait’ is inscribed.
We are: a thorn in the feet of humanity,
That is bent upon
To lose harvest of the centuries.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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