RHYTHMS OF THE SOUL, By Muhammad Naveed Ahmed (Emmenay) [latest novels to read .TXT] 📗

drink,
It is not Jamshed's rare goblet that I prize;
My beloved thinks I am not ill that I am quite well,
If her soothing gaze makes my sad face glow;
Let’s see what clothed idols have to offer us,
A Brahmin soothsayer says this year will be fine.

(51) HIS GRIN

Stone Age man
Disguised in today's grins
How he makes me laugh!

(52) HOPE AND LOVE

New moon hope,
Ripples of joy float,
In ocean of hopelessness.
Light is dim,
And sunspots emerge,
Journey home yet to begin.
Dull weather,
Sand dunes and ditches,
Amid unexpected events.
Springs are dry,
For rains do I wait,
Love and hope flicker faintly.

(53) HOUSE OF GLASS

How more will you keep testing the house that I made of glass,
This frail house that I have built with glass?
For diamond-like precious fingers did I make a ring of glass.
Yet it cut my soul’s core, the ring that I made of glass!
Hidden by the stormy sea there is a very small island,
On it does it stand… oh my frail house of glass!
All that my shanty needs is a well-built shelter,
To survive the storms and save my house of glass!
How I watch out for stones, how scared I am of gales,
Worried I am constantly about saving my house of glass.
How could even you be cruel, why do you test my will,
Isn’t on your fingers too a delicate ring made of glass?

(54) HOW COULD YOU?

Where have you gone?
Nothing is like,
The way it used to be,
When you were there -
- Everything forlorn.
Tell me,
O please tell me,
From somewhere - anywhere,
At least give a clue:
Where are you.
Like a bolt from the blue,
When nobody knew,
You left, quietly,
And I wish I knew,
Where to find you.
It was hard to believe,
When I was told,
That you had departed:
All I could say was,
It can't be true.
And till the time I saw,
Your being wrapped in sheets,
All that I wanted was,
For you to get up...because
...You knew how I love you.
You left without a word:
No farewell, no goodbye,
Leaving me to bear all,
Till death - quite absurd -
How could you?

(55) HOW I LAUGH WHEN I SHOULD WEEP!

White sand on the sea,
Lashed by foamy froth,
Gray matter called the brain,
Directs the eyes to smog.
So much filth and scum,
Litters this world of mine,
Sometimes it sends shudders,
Of horror through the spine.
Men with hardened hearts,
Women with greedy eyes,
Children with none to care,
Play with dragonflies.
Kites soar up in the air,
Sorrows rent TV screens,
How can joy be felt,
When life blows to smithereens.
Mice, rats and lizards dart,
In the kitchens at night,
Cats no longer care,
They prefer sleeping tight.
Old men with lusty eyes:
Odious gazes all around;
Young men with no jobs,
Seek treasures unfound.
How I laugh and laugh,
Making all stare at me,
They know not how my grief,
Seeks ways for me to be.
I gaze at the heavens too,
And watch stars that float,
Every satellite and planet,
Is a traveller on a boat.
Noah built his ark,
To save the good of all,
Who will rescue these people,
Heading towards fall?
The Green One called Khidr,
Has no Moses for answers,
The bells of the Last Hour,
Toll louder and louder.
Come down Jesus, once more,
As we heard you will come,
Cleanse these lands of pigs,
And the scum along the shore.


(56) HOW MY SLEEP SUFFERS!

Your dream will never disturb you,
It's my sleep that suffers...
O saint: how my sleep is suffering:
Ah, how my sleep is suffering!
The cuckoo flaps its night-like black wings,
And the jungle is echoing,
O saint, how the jungle is echoing!
And my sleep is suffering...
O saint, how my sleep is suffering!
Reward and punishment are but God’s Will,
While man’s share is toiling --
O saint, how mankind is toiling!
And my sleep is suffering...
O saint, how my sleep is suffering!
Your longing for Him is like seasons,
While ‘union’ rests on fealty,
O saint, isn't it just fealty?
Yet, my sleep is suffering,
O saint, how my sleep is suffering!
Your greatness O God, is your uniqueness,
And Hallaj-like my being,
O God, Hallaj-like my being!
But my sleep is suffering,
O saint, how my sleep is suffering!

This poem is a translation of a popular Urdu ghazal.


(57) HOW, WITHOUT YOU?

Seasons change,
Night-scent of flowers,
Rekindles my world of dreams.
Songs of love,
Echo in forgotten place,
A swish, a sash, dance.
How we waltzed!
Wishing it would never end,
What more did I want?
Living on,
To work, work and work,
Not the other way around.
When you went,
You wished me just happiness,
But how, without you?

(58) HUSHED BREATH

It's autumn as I and the bared tree,
Shake hands with barren destiny;
The stiff air enshrouded by vacuum,
Chokes our throats with impunity.
How many seasons have both of us seen,
How many sighs that were sung on the green;
How many a heart has vanished unseen,
Gulped by the storm of a muffled scene.
Even today the tree and I ponder,
On spring's ecstasy that made us wander,
The restlessness and the sleepless nights,
When our unfulfilled hopes took us yonder.
The lake with its lotus wonders is dry,
The enthusiasm of teenaged lovers,
Everything is sunk in autumn's depth,
Life is just a whisper on fate's hushed breath.

(59) HUSSAIN VS. TYRANNY

It is once more the month of Muharram*,
Once again a time to reflect,
Upon all that led to the Karbala* clash,
The battle between good and evil.
On one side was defiant tyranny,
On the other was valiant Hussain,
One was the offspring of Satan,*
One the grandson of the Prophet*.

Muharram: First Islamic month.
Karbala: A place in Iraq where Hussain, the son of Ali bin Abu Talib and his followers embraced martyrdom while battling the forces of tyranny and falsehood coming from Kufa in Syria.
Hussain: The son of Ali and the grandson of Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him).
Prophet: Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him).


(60) I AM TIRED

I am tired, oh, how I want to rest,
I am tired of your summer fest,
Tired of waking up to alarms,
Tired of listening to old psalms.
Tired of getting up and going,
Tired of trying, trying, trying,
Tired of knowing there is nothing,
That really matters to my knowing.
Tired of rushing off for work,
Tired of enduring hours of waking,
Tired of this sick and creeping feeling,
Tired of talking and arguing
Tired of struggling for a living
Tired of living... for a living.

(61) I SEEK

Tide's music blends
Breeze hums quiet song
Where’s the one I seek?

(62) IF I KNEW

If I knew how you feel,
Would I ever go away,
Ah, the pain that makes you call,
How much that cry has to say.


(63) IF NOT LOVE
If not love, O let it be!
Woe-filled angst and misery,
And may this state of mine,
Forever the cause of your fame be.
Please don’t sever our ties,
Please, I beg of you
Even if nothing remains,
Hostility will content me.
If in my 'shameful' presence
Your reputation suffers so much,
Let our affair pay the price,
And become a famous mockery.
How can I, O my beloved!
Be my own enemy?
How can I even though,
Your heart has no room for me.
Let me play with the heart,
Even if it's for a while Asad,
If there is nothing to be found there,
Let my craving grow and kill me...

(64) LIFE, LOVE AND SORROW.

For what cause should I disown my fealty?
If not a life of love, let it be of grief and sorrow be.
Give me something to live for, O you unjust world!
If nothing else, at least a respite, from my anxiety.
Even I, will one day, prove my loyalty to you,
Though it’s now your habit to ignore and insult me.
Let us also be busy O poetic soul,
If not peace or love, let it be fear and worry.

These two poems are translations of Mirza Ghalib’s ghazals.

(65) TO A LOVELY CREATURE

Everlasting mourning,
In the memory of a friend,
Tears giving life,
To the beginning of an end.
High treetops stare,
At the deep depths below,
The road keeps winding,
As the travellers go.
Perched on a branch,
You chortled and chirped,
Like a nightingale,
Whose song, I heard.
From whence did you come,
O lovely creature,
My grief fades away,
When I listen to your rapture.
Who will understand,
The language that you speak,
Save poets like me,
Whose hurt hearts you seek!


(66) AN IMPERFECT MAN

When the blemishes in the mirror,
Stare at me,
I am hurt:
Because I see who I am.
Nobody else knows, no one can,
But I am face to face with the man,
The man outside, the man within,
The man whom God calls a man.

(67) IN SEARCH OF PEACE

Liars, deceivers, plunderers stare,
Humanity likes naked, rendered bare,
Tell me, is this all fair?
One day, God willing, I shall rise,
And cleanse this world of wars and vice,
Will you O friend, be as wise?
Haiku and venting one's wounded heart,
Has no effect on these wild dogs,
Why not lure them into a sea of sharks?
Doomsday is a day that tyrants shall bring,
when there won't be autumn, winter or spring,
Remember that we are but hay in this wind.
No, defeat is not a way of mine,
Battling the odds is my rhyme,
O Lord, be there at the right time.


(68) IN SYMPATHY WITH THE PEOPLE OF THE USA

O, affected Americans, one and all!
My heart sheds tears for the fall,
Not just for the twin towers that fell,
But for all engulfed by terror's spell.
I live in a land across the seas,
Where many like me believe in peace,
The doom that struck on Black Tuesday,
Is a blot on mankind I must say.
But O my affected fellowmen,
Remember the guidance in our scriptures,
Repel evil with that which is good,
While rooting out mischief and mayhem.
You blame Bin Laden, you have the right,
But beware of the one-eyed anti-Christ,
He lurks behind the garb of good,
It is HIM that we all have to fight.
He is leading a nation astray,
Bringing catastrophes every day,
Wrapped in cloaks, he's mysterious,
Yet his fake eye gives him away.
I have found out this evil man,
Who preaches good but spreads terror,
Let us launch our battle to catch this one,
This one-eyed, disguised mischief monger.

This was written after the gory incident in New York on September the 11th, 2001.

(69) IN THE DARK

Past the midnight hour, when it's dark,
Come, let's