Continuity
Winds dance
Black clouds gather
Trace songs of blue rains
On wooden tablets of the golden sun
In azure limitlessness of the sky.
Birds remember the earth
Through signs
Seas come to an end
On shores
Somewhere whole isles
Sink in tear drops.
Hark, O children
For stories get interrupted
If you're inattentive.
(Translated from the original Urdu by Dr.Satyapal Anand and from English to Spanish by Dr. Teresinka Pereira)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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A Dream I Have To Write
A dream
I have to write
On the wooden slate
Of a child
Playing traunt from the school.
A moon
I have to write
On the forehead
Of a woman
Swarthier than evetide darkness.
A song
I have to write
On the frozen lips
of the wind
Passing through
A bamboo forest.
A name
I have to write
On an unmarked
Grave stone
In a memorial cemetry.
(Translated from Urdu to English by Dr. Satyapal Anand and from English to Spanish by Dr. Teresinka Pereira)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Dreams Lost In Water
No distance ever separates
Dreams and desires
No mirror ever dissolves
Reflection and water
In one's eye
What graph would you make
Of lines of thought?
The triangle of pain
Is without any angle
Countless races
Have dreams alike
But sleep and night-watch
Are never the same!
Names are forgotten
Codes alone come to mind
In nuclear setups
Dreams of radiant generations
Are smitten
By atomic explosions
Cities sink
Nuclei dissipate
Orbits dwindle
What remains
Are terra and sol
In the dance of death
God is a casualty.
A moment of brightness
In a light year
Breaking into smithereens
In a million eons
An accident - yes
But not an event
History is continuity
Broken once
Telescopic eyes, tired out, give up
Their distance watching
Lost planets
Bygone epoches
Have no interposition.
Who will look for
Flowers
In spring-fresh hands
Of tiny tots?
Who will see
Dreams
In eyes-yours and mine
In centuries to be?
No one is sure
Of things lost in water!
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1980.
Translated from Urdu to English by Dr. Satyapal Anand and from English to Spanish by Dr. Teresinka Pereira.
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poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Had Ocean Been My Confidant
Had ocean been my confidant
I'd have given it
All of my truths for safekeeping
Tales i would have written
Of seashells picking girls on beaches
Whose golden bodies were
Like isles of dreamland
But whose fates were
Like lines drawn in sand.
Had ocean been my confidant
I'd have given it
All my loneliness
I'd have walked with the wind
Clasping its finger in my fist
On distant paths
From whence no one comes back!
Had ocean been my confidant
I'd have given it all my depths
Stepping into its limitless
Blue bosom
I'd have made earth into my bark
Sky into my sails
I'd have made the woeful moment
Of separation
A connecting link between you and me.
Had ocean been my confidant!
(Translated from the original Urdu by Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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A Change Of Scene Is But A Moment's Respite
In the sunbathed expanse of the sky
Birds were on the wing
Now lost in the quaint net
Of limetless space
In sky-lakes, azure blue,
They can't be seen.
Clouds kiss the hillock's lips
Then dance in ecstasy
Move around from valley to valley
Suddenly slipping from steep precipices
A comely face like a silken handkerchief
Gets soaked somewhere
In the rain of tears.
My dreams take a plunge
From the open window
And land
In the hands of the kids playing
In the eyes of the balloon seller
In the heart of the Gypsy girl
Hawking her wares - earthen toys.
The wind blows them away in a moment.
A change of scene is but a moment's respite
To look long and longingly
With a deep gaze of adoration
Is a palpable loss.
Whole life spans are spent
In slow motion.
Poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1980.
Translated from the original Urdu into English by Satyapal Anand.
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poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Charioteer Has Gone To Sleep
The charioteer has gone to sleep
Ovecome by fatigue of wearisome ways
Unaware of where he is
All that's evident
Is his continuous journey
On unmarked, worn-out way
In his wooden wagonette
From the beginning of time
To the end of time
When the wagonette
Creaks even with a small bump
Wrapped up in millions of folds
Of ragged shabbiness
Each living being is startled
The charioteer dreams
He has lost himself in strange worlds
Comfortable climes
Riding a golden chariot
And holding the princess's hand
The charioteer has gone to sleep
(Translated from the original Urdu by Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Where Did You See Her?
Have you ever ventured
Beyond the dreams
Where the sulking night
Angry with her lovers, the moon and the stars
Dabs her bare body with ashes
And dances around a bonfire?
Have you ever peeped behind eyelashes
Into tired blue eyes
Where a whole world of woe
Swims in spaces unfathomed?
Have you ever spent a day
Under the greenwood trees
Erect sentry-like on each side of the road
Where the sun struggles
To find its way?
Have you ever asked
A wayfarer, a stranger
The directions to the house
Of the one
Whose waning footprints
The winds kiss
Wandering about from town to town?
(Translated from the original Urdu by Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Don't Ever Come, O December
Look December
Don't ever come now!
Look, December
Deserts unnumbered have expanded in me.
All my rivers
Are silted with the sands of loneliness.
Now only I
And the weight of my loneliness
Remain together.
Look, December
In your frozen nights
In your sleepless nights
Who will knit dreamlike sweaters?
Who will pick snowflakes falling in the soul?
Look, December
Don't ever come now!
And even if you do come
Don't go to the abodes of the sun
Wearing the snows of your woes.
Don't ever go to my loved ones!
Look, December
Don't ever come now!
(Translated from the original Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Lullaby For Lost Generations
All rivers of taste have dried up
Only sands boil in pans
Tyranny of migration has struck the towns
Birds have forsaken their nests.
Judgements descend from heavens
So it is said in books, testaments
Secrets of hearts are culpable offences
It's crime to feed at mother's breast.
''He had gone to buy a feeder
Before curfew time;
Hasn't come back.''
Kids, go to sleep
Stories, written on waters
Are narrated by winds to sails
Of sinking ships, of men in submarines
The oceans in their eyes were dry at parting
Yes, the sands of journey
Had marked all pores of the body
'' Keep Quiet ''.
Whole life-spans pass awake from sleep
A single frozen moment is difficult to pass.
The sun at the roof's height comes and goes
Come, give a call to those
Who had heard Israfael's bugle
And gone to eternal sleep on the battle front.
Their children remain awake.
(Translated from original Urdu by Dr. Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Dreams Are Faceless
Dreams are but faceless
Eyes alone are a visible feature
And eyes indeed
Have a quaint crowd
Of faces;
Dreams lose their way in it.
Repentant sorrow
Of compromises
Renders dry and seer
Inner seasons of good cheer
Extinguishes flames of
Soulful sentiments
Covers with an icesheet
Of sad forebodings
All scenes of love - and loveliness!
Winds' reflections sink
In shallow waters.
It's soul's sickness
That draws
Lines of unfamiliarity
On bodies' wooden slates
(Destroying their intimacy)
Painting lips with a smile
Doesn't sweeten the taste of sorrows.
How long will you dread the sand
sitting on the shore
Of affliction?
A fistful of sand
Doesn't do either
Neither does it flatten up the ocean
Nor soak away
The glittering waters of the eyes!
Do you know?
It's wise not to wake up
While sleepwalking!
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1992.
Translated from Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand.
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poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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A Dream Fallen Out Of Sleep
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere a dream burns
Somewhere tears sparkle
Somewhere a moon smoulders
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere the sun rises
Somewhere the black beauty - night
Street walks
Somewhere an earthen lamp
Hides behind a facade
Outside the abode or our sleep
Somewhere bright birds flutter
Somewhere beasts of prey prowl
Somewhere there's a memory - forest
A desert there is - and a watershed
Somewhere a snowscape burns
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere there's a cloud-burst
Eyes stare in longing
Somewhere in the ocean of the heart
Someone burns to a dry death
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere two flowers bloom
Somewhere we see each other every day
Somewhere the wounds are sutured
Outside the abode of our sleep
Somewhere a roof is lit up
A door is afire
Somewhere hidden
Somewhere revealed
Outside the abode of our sleep
A dream burns.
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1979.
Translated from Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand
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poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Cross On One's Own Shoulder
We had met
On the threshold of a dream
Or in the sprawling hall
Of torturous silence
Of sleepless moments.
Only if chandeliers of memory
Are lighted
Will I ever know where!
All scenes get blurred in darkness.
Words, dots, dashes,
Only if they emerge from the underworld of meaning
Perchance, perhaps then
A forest of meaningfulness
Might grow from the desert womb
Of sterile writings.
Clouds form in azure-blue chalice of the sky.
Indeed, who should I ask about it?
Countless sessions of wasted worship
In the cavernous depths
Of one's own inner self......
who will ever account for it?
Who will decode
The text of moth-eaten pledges?
Did we ever meet each other
Who will know?
(1976, Translated by Dr. satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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See, If You Can......
See, if you can really see
The wilderness of history
The paths leading to Macedonia are dust-engulfed
' Alexanders of Fate' have vanished
The reverbrating footfalls
Around the nail of Konya
Are now reduced to lifeless echoes of a timeless moment
No dervish has stamina left in his spinning heel
Brightly lit up streaks have dimmed
Serial dances have all been obliterated
Eagles swoop down over Baghdad
The sharp edge of Damascus weapons are now blunt
See, if you can really see
The depths of your dreams
Have growing forests of poison-besmeared eyes
In place of a throbbing heart
Striped snakes of the New World
Now live in the ancient edifices
resting on pillars of Corinth
And the ancient iron boxes of secret treasures
kept in the magic cave
Have no red coins left
Only dollars!
See, if you can.........
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1990.
Translated from the original Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand.
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poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Living Trophies
On their way to school
Carrying dreams of future
In their book bags
Kids grow into old man
Their prattle
Like tiny butterflies
Continue to live.
Of dreams and their interpretations
Of brightly lit hands
And happy lines of fate
Folks seperate from us
Their memories
Continue to live.
In the eve-time loneliness
In the head-splitting deep gaze
Like withering dreams
Scenes get blurred
Glued to the path - eyes
Continue to live.
In the empty spaces of life
In the courtyards of
Waning sunlight
Holding medals of valour
And defeats
Mothers of slain war heroes
Continue to live.
Poets
Writing on scraps die
Their poems
Continue to live.
(Translated from the original Urdu by Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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The World Is Made For The Cunning
Children innocently ask:
Where do the animals' souls go when they are dead?
Does the fish-soul leave the ocean?
And do the birds
Simply turn into branches of a tree?
Childern do not make concepts
They can't conceptualize
The philosophy of
Evolution and transmigration of souls
They don't know who was what in
previous incarnation
And what would one be in the next one
How would they know that the world
Is full of people
Who sup on innocent souls
Whether of animals or human beings! !
(Translated by Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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The Door Of No Return
Those who passed from this door
Were negroes
With centuries-old ethos permeating
Their swarthy bodies.
This door
(The door of no return)
Opening on to an ocean
Was the gateway to
The Brave New World of slavery.
A return journey
Was only a scintillating dream
Reflected in the eyes of
The multitude of skeleton-like bodies
Aboard the sea-going vessels.
This door
On the shore
Now admits the white masters
Who pass with reverence
Recalling the bygone ages of their tyranny
But perchance forget
that Africa
Will shine like the rising sun of the
Brave New World.
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir,1995.
Translated from Urdu into English by Dr. Satyapal Anand.
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poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Climax Of A Long Story
She wrote me
On mud-walls
In colours delible
And then
Prayed for rain!
(1975, Translated By Dr. Satyapal Anand)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Windows
Windows open vistas for us
Windows - of hearts, of minds or of eyes
Windows - which might open outward
Or inward
They bring the light on the other end to this end.
Windows converse
They open the alphabetical locks of our lips
When night weaves nets of darkness on windows
Life-spans speak out in whispers from abysses of pain
Windows then perforce remain silent
Suffer days of tongue-tied laws
Nights of oppression
And epochs of tyranny
Windows are self same stories of dreams
Of centuries
Mute testimony of chasms
Court yards and ruined houses
Evidence of rusted eons rattling with exhaustion
in tyrant time's primordium continuity
Windows have the heart of a woman
They open their body's wings of each clime
With a little waft of wind
With fragrance, sunlight, rain or moon beams.
They blow away paper-light images
And waste away life in uncharted desires.
When butterflies fly in front of windows
Eyes glued to window panes become tearful
With noontide memories.
Evenings look forward to a wayfarer passing by
When they're covered with climbers
holding forth red and white flowers
They fill closed fists with the touch of fire-flies.
Windows often insist on being kept open
They're surprised to watch cloud, birds
And the blue sky's expanse
If they're kept shut
They're afraid of the life breath of
Walls and rooms getting strangulated.
They're afraid of dwellers forsaking their houses
They also feel life's desertion
They also feel despondent
Windows are human beings!
Poem by: Naseer Ahmed Nasir
Translated from the original Urdu into English by Satyapal Anand.
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poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Golden Tree
In the dark late night she appeared
A golden tree dancing
Before a sky of azure blue
Somewhat purple hued.
Her branches grew haphazardly
Playing hide and seek with cirrus clouds.
Inside she prayed for rain to shine upon her.
Through a kaleidoscope she could read the songs
Of her wounded soul,
Although the approaching dawn was blackening.
Electric blue were the eyes of midnight.
Mistrustful, they hid behind a wall of deceit
This golden tree danced in the early morning breeze,
As she shivered to ward away the fallen snow.
She wept for all of the hurt through which she lived.
When she read the world through that kaleidoscope,
There were none but scattered shards of broken glass
“Dance and dance”
All tell this golden tree,
For she shall grow when the sun rains upon her gilded heart.
She is loved, in all her lustrous glory.
Red birds of ardor,
Robins with their breasts of copper,
And the new moss that grows upon her fragile trunk
Shall arrive within a vessel christened “springtime.”
She reaches out with agile limbs
To trees with silver branches
Swaying to and fro,
Dropping leaves with veins of woven silk,
That wilt with each and every touch.
In the dim moonlight when the air is bittersweet
There appears a golden tree that dances,
Far from where the rippling creek is crawling over
Gemstones dampened by the rain.
Against a sky of azure blue
Touched with purple hues
A lithe, dancing golden tree can be found
In any place, time or realm,
She could be you or me-
Perhaps anyone’s wounded soul,
Where its world seen through a kaleidoscope
Is none but a shattered dream…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Whirling Death
I am maddened by the
Death-knock.
In a frenzy I run,
for the many chores to be done...
From the stillness of mountains and lakes
to hear ancient songs,
to unravel mysteries of tales from the past,
of trees to enquire after
the business of growth,
to watch the ever-changing
shapes of clouds,
through sweet-voiced, goodly birds
seek the source of divine fruits,
touch flowers of a blushing creeper,
make conversation
with doorways and walls.
So many visitors still wait;
a long list of unseen vistas
beheld in the eyes, pounds
in the veins,
exploding them any moment,
but I am busy,
in a flurry to carry out the chores...
The ocean calls,
islands and coastlines
for aeons have longed for me.
They haunt me, the fishermen
singing songs as they return
to their abodes;
some day I'll pay them a visit...
Enchanting lands
restively wait
to reveal their many treasures;
paths are not unknown to me,
in the old wooden trunk, lie safe
the maps;
I can also discern the melody of gods,
but I am busy...
So much to be done for the children.
Books and notebooks,
school uniforms, new bags,
toys, bats and rackets
and so much more that is
yet unsaid,
will make them happy
if I buy for them,
but I am busy,
have to see through so many chores...
Faster now, blood rushes
through the veins;
life is possessed by the frenzy of Death.
Busy I am,
hurriedly scribbling poem after poem,
maddened by the Death-knock.
(Translated from the original Urdu into English by Yasmeen Hameed)
poem by Naseer Ahmed Nasir
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Untitled
A carpet, into which the suffering landscape pales
Perhaps the Sea of Galilee, a boat in the gale
Golden things fall out of storm clouds
Insanity, that seizes the gentle human.
The old waters gurgle a blue laughter.
And sometimes a dark pit opens.
The possessed are reflected in cold metals
Drops of blood fall on glowing plates
And a countenance decays in black night.
Flags, which babble in sinister vaults.
Other things remind on the birds' flight
Over the gallows the crows' mystical signs
Coppery snakes sink in spiky grasses
In pillows of incense a smile whore-like and clever.
Good Friday's children stand blindly at fences
In the mirror of dark gutters full of rottenness
The sighing recovery of the dying
And angels who go through white eyes
From lids dimming golden redemption.
poem by Georg Trakl
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