Written by
Majeed Amjad |
Sons, my native land has sons
born on soil
barren and rocky and lone
for ages lone
across the gaping wilderness tear
ruthless winds and torrents of pain
sweep in epochs. sweep them out.
Sons of mountains
radiant petals of jasmine gay
specks of time-less age-less rocks
elegant, fair and tender moulds
lumps of leathern coarsened hearts
damned by sun and wind and time
dashed from tops. they seek a home
lost in dust beneath their feet
On a heap of squalid unscrubbed pans
immersed in simmering scalding water
the toiling sweating hands do seek
the blessed home
for ages they have thought and dreamed.
In towns flourshing
along the banks of mountain brooks
stays a-while
a fleeting cloud of gloom....... The Home!
and from an urban sheeted roof
curls into waves of trailing smoke.
The brook is limpid murmuring gold
the smoke is trailing meandering gold
the killers are killers
of conscience grace and candid souls
if ever they marked
the wave of anguish
a dash, a span
among the torrents of water and sweat
the rocks in hearts
the dark sinister rocks would fall.
(Translated from Urdu By Balraj Komal, Posted By Anila A.)
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Written by
Sarojini Naidu |
You flaunt your beauty in the rose, your glory in the dawn,
Your sweetness in the nightingale, your white- ness in the swan.
You haunt my waking like a dream, my slumber like a moon,
Pervade me like a musky scent, possess me like a tune.
Yet, when I crave of you, my sweet, one tender moment's grace,
You cry, "I sit behind the veil, I cannot show my face."
Shall any foolish veil divide my longing from my bliss?
Shall any fragile curtain hide your beauty from my kiss?
What war is this of Thee and Me? Give o'er the wanton strife,
You are the heart within my heart, the life within my life.
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Written by
Majeed Amjad |
Where is she … ?!
That girl who stood on these ramparts years ago
Statuesque … iconic …besieged by the world
A deity … worshiped by the early glow of my dreams !
Where is she now ?
That crazy-headed rebellious Truth
With the restless, quivering eye lashes
Who came to refute the sham of this world.
Under these ramparts,
My breath is still patched and mended
By the soft breeze of her existence
Which once did battle against eternal stony walls
But I wonder where she rests now
That crazy-headed rebellious Truth ?
This is how young, unfolding lives
With their tinkling laughter
Are lost forever in a dark enduring slumber
What manner of sleep is this
Whose sea-waves slowly crumble and erode
All islands of the heart ?
What kind of dreams are these
That swim within this sleep
Floating back … returning again and again… forever in this deep slumber ?
Dreams ... whose childhood glow never fades away !!
(Translated by Talat Afroze from the original Urdu text of the poem: Moortee);
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Written by
Tanwir Phool |
http://forum.urdujahaan.com/viewtopic.php?f=96&t=4192
O my native land !
O my native land !
Far better than a garden
Is your dust and sand
What a dignified place you are !
Full of grace and beauty , as star
You are protected and saved , indeed
By the Mercy of God , near not far
O my native land !
O my native land !
Far better than a garden
Is your dust and sand
Ever-flowing rivers and valleys
Charming scene of butterflies and bees
So much soothing is your environment
Like a paradise , full of ease
O my native land !
O my native land !
Far better than a garden
Is your dust and sand
Phool , the poet is praying always
God bless you during nights and days
Long live up to the Doomsday
With the joyful refulgence and rays
O my native land !
O my native land !
Far better than a garden
Is your dust and sand
Poet : Tanwir Phool (from his book "Naghmat-e-Pakistan" i:e
"The Melodies of Pakistan").This book has won Presidential
Award from the Government of Pakistan.
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