Speak by Faiz Ahmad Faiz, a poem for our time

Speak! by Faiz Ahmad Faiz loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Speak, while your lips are still free. Speak, while your tongue remains yours. Speak, while you're still standing upright. Speak, while your spirit has force. See how, in the bright-sparking forge, cunning flames set dull ingots aglow as the padlocks release their clenched grip on the severed chains hissing below. Speak, in this last brief hour, before the bold tongue lies dead. Speak, while the truth can be spoken. Say what must yet be said. Mujh Se Pehli Si Mohabbat by Faiz Ahmed Faiz translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch for Lishaelle Don't rekindle the love of lost days, my beloved. I used to feel your presence would brighten my life; That if I shared your grief, I could ignore my own struggles; That your beauty assured me of perennial blossomings; That there is nothing dearer than the sight of your eyes. I thought being with you would enthrall the fates; Alas, it was not to be, not so simple. For the world has many sorrows apart from love’s And there are reliefs more potent than our reunion. Countless centuries bound by this dark enchantment, Tender bodies draped in silks, satins and brocades Are now being pandered in alleys and marketplaces, Caked in ashes, dragged through dirt, drenched in blood. Bodies fume from diseased furnaces; Pus oozes from decomposing ulcers; and yet I cannot look away, my love! Your beauty remains as alluring as ever, but how can I ignore the griefs surrounding me! For the world has many sorrows apart from love’s And there are more potent reliefs than our reunion. Don't rekindle the love of lost days, my beloved. Ebb Tide by Michael R. Burch after Goethe Ebb tide. The sea is wide. In the depths dark things abide. Hush, pale child. Never fear. None as dark as men, my dear. Ebb tide. The sea is wide. In the depths dark creatures glide. Hush, now father. Never fear. Men are nothing where you are. Moonflower by Michael R. Burch after Robert Hayden Marveling, we at last beheld the achieved flower— both awed and repelled by its alienness, its moonlit petals, its cloying fragrance, its transcendence, its shimmering and wavering intimations of mortality... Who was there to tell me that I, too, might be one of the Lost? Keywords/Tags: Faiz, translation, Speak, spirit, truth, tide, sea, dark, darkness, fear, men, father, son