Cushions

When my leaders
Sit in the assembly halls,
For legislation,
With fake brains, fake thoughts,
Fake eyes, fake looks,
Fake existence, fake appearance,
Fake education, fake degrees,
They seem to me
Fake, fake beings,
As if
Some one has placed cushions,
On the sofas and chairs;
Cushions stuffed
With rags of worn out jeans
Or old pieces of sacks
Made of jute.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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True Kingdom

The wind storm blew,
The green leaves flew,
Creakingly cracked the trees,
They tumbled with blows of the wind,
The turbans were blown away,
From the heads,
The shawls,
Entangled on the acacias’ thorns,
And the damsels moved mourning.

Ah! The wind storm blew,
All around the dust flew,
Only the kingdom,
Of the wind is the truth,
And all other is falsehood.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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You Have Cast Me Off

I was the only one,
Who caressed your all wounds;
I was the only one, my Love!
Who with pens of my lashes,
Time and again, wrote thousands
Of couplets on your conversing eyes;
And on the land of your heart
Placed I thousand of the reflections
Of faithfulness.
Speak!
Who gave you life against the wish of death?
But what have you done?
Have You cast me off too?

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Behind The Bars

(Written in the days of dictatorship)

The law of forest
Governs where I live in;
Neither sighs, nor cries,
Nor expressionless eyes
Affect the rulers;
Nor any shriek awakens
The slumbering conscience,
Nor any tragic event knocks
At the door of hardened heart.
All treacherous, lecherous
With leprous hands,
Have imprisoned the nation,
Behind the invisible bars.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Only One Blessing

I can pay least,
Gratitude to God,
Only for the one blessing,
That He made me,
Neither one of the killers
Of Hussain (A.S) ,
Nor did He place me amid
Those favour them.

Note: Hussain (A.S) was the grandson of the Holy Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon Him) , he was assassinated along with the members of His family by Yazid and his companions: the so-called believers.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A Complaint

Ah! I do know the winds shall blow,
And the same old Titanic will me row,
To the distant promised harbour,
Where were placed my dear parents,
And grandparents long, long ago.

I shall complain and tell them the tale,
“On the Earth, on each dale and vale,
Thunder thunders flaming the lands,
Ravaging the green or purple peaks,
Each tree you planted is dry or pale.”

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Why I Write?

When indelible memories of the past,
Torment my heart and mind; I write.

When mist floats in front of the eyes,
The light comes from behind; I write.

When the men of the callous world,
Compel me to be confined; I write.

When my heart weeps wailing upon
The wise being led by the blind; I write.

When in self schemed distribution I see
The deserving limping behind; I write.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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It Is Possible

It is possible that you
From each word of love,
May derive thousand of meanings,
And then your yourself refute them.
It is possible My Dear
That its charm may make you paralyzed,
And you finding yourself
In the lonely dark cave of heart
May confess, express reality of love.

But who will guarantee?
You never write 'No' prior to 'Yes',
And you never write 'Yes' prior to 'No'.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Younger Brother of Miss. Covet

I make Her sing, I make Her dance,
Dance ball and ballet with high feet,
I make Her sell the elegance of Her being,
I make Her allow others touch,
Her soft sacred treasure,
I make Her allow others mix
Impurity into pure chaste existence,
Play with Her like a toy,
I make Her do the whole thing,
Hateful and disgusting,
For I am Mr. Gold,
The younger brother of Miss. Covet.

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A Treasure

Packed in an old trunk,
Beneath the worn-out garments,
And the torn pieces of paper,
Amid the charms and devices of spell,
In a rusty box of metal,
Beneath the fading photograph,
The coloured silky sari that lies
There with a red golden lace,
And glistening stars,
Is dearer than the soul,
For an unfortunate aged woman.

Written by Naina Adil
Translated by
Muhammad Shanazar

poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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