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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have To Say Something
I have to say something,
When you depart, go afar from me,
A dark shawl of depression
From somewhere,
Who knows, how befalls on my head.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Love Gets Annoyed
Faithfulness,
When gets over the shawl
Of compromise,
And assumes,
The shape of Winter,
It descends in the patio of heat.
It smiles like a bow of stars
Hanging on the lashes,
And sometimes it gives
An unsmelt perfume,
Of the untouchable figures
Of dreams.
When the chains
Of countless moments spent
Along someone endeared,
Begin to jingle in the mind,
Silence at once cries
On the cable of breath;
It seems as if gusts of winds,
Come to whisper.
O! My Friend,
Now you might have realize,
The true nature of love;
Whatever wounds it imparts,
It never allows to stitch
And if love gets annoyed
It dose not allow to be alive.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Season Of Separation
He inquired,
“Were all dreams shattered? ”
I responded,
“No there left some behind.”
He inquire again,
“Since when have you been conversing to yourself? ”
I responded,
“It is a gift bestowed by aloofness.”
He said,
“What have you done with bright eyes,
Rosy cheeks and golden facade? ”
I answered,
“There rests in my inner-self the season of separation.”
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Forgetfulness
I have decided to forget you,
But
It is impossible to forsake you,
If I disown you,
I shall have to renounce life.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Separation Weeps
Those who break up relations,
Perhaps forget,
They meet by embracing,
Each season all alone,
But they weep not alone.
On becoming restless,
Saddened and impatient,
Separation itself,
Accompanies them in wailing.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Us Compose a Poem
Let us compose a poem,
In the drizzle of Monsoon,
Or in a small valley,
On the moments,
Which spent accompanying you,
Or
On innocent sentiments,
Or
On your brilliant eyes,
Or
On my quivering eyes,
Let us compose a poem.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Become Annoyed
Brawls between us,
Tangling, expostulating,
And threatening not to return,
No doubt,
All these have their apposite worth;
But be heeded, hear me!
Though I am stubborn, adamant,
Yet if I become annoyed,
Absolve my all imperfections,
By embracing,
Reconciling with me again.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Astrologer
He sat beside the road,
And was busy in telling the people,
What fates have been ordained,
I impulsively stopped beside him,
And inquired,
“What fortune is you own,
Do you know? ”
He became distressed,
Then he composed himself
And responded,
“Lo! How deep is creased
The line of swindling at my palm.”
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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