Eighteen Verses
He came only for a few days
Just like a guest.
Via whose hand may I send today’s
prayer to him?
An envoy, the wind, a star, no one
can go to his place.
Without uttering a word, eyes still
kept on smiling
As splendid sunlight never talks, as
dark night sings!
If there are faults then write
those on my account
As for favors in love, let them be
yours.
Who will knock at the door this
late at night?
I wonder if he might be disguised
as wind.
I will allot my share of happiness
to him
Anybody whom I adore that much!
If our existence has harmony then
there is connection
Even I am a couplet of poetry, he
the piece of prose.
In a train’s whistle there was an
introduction to separation
After parting, when I returned
home, then I realized.
He was a complete universe in his
personage!
Neither the reflections of past
days nor the thought of future
He just looked at me, pure blank
eyes.
Wherever he resides, be it in safe
care!
Whenever I raised my hands up, only
this prayer came to memory.
We know he will not be coming back,
But even this evening, we kept on
waiting for him.
What can I write about the
innocence of that man?
He whom even with his faults, I
adored!
He is silent, but his eyes talk
Whenever he looks up, he is
conversing.
He reasoned that it was only a gash,
which would heal
Who knew it would settle in the
heart?
Even if I were to sever my fingers
Still, by habit, they will write
his name.
Forever, prayers will be in his
name!
He just asked, ‘How are you?’
And tears start flowing.
Parveen Shakir, translated from the
Urdu by M.S. Alverston
Friday, February 24, 2012
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