Akhtar Jawad Poems

She came down to the earth from the high skies,
When she opened her pretty and innocent eyes,
She was found in a field of richly yield,
She remained in love with her soil and field.
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Neither the dense clouds, nor the winds exciting,
You entered in her as a beauty inviting.
It were you who rained on the soil too dry
Here is a paradise; hell may be at the sky,
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Dear peacock when you dance in a forest,
It’s the beauty itself that dances with you,
Can you tell me how do you love and the rest?
How your beloved romances with you?
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The vagabond was once again on the window,
Begging love and asking to open the gate,
And the fairy inside the house reluctant,
Said helpless she was being slave of the fate,
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I remember the flowers,
We plucked from the gardens,
I remember butterflies,
We jointly collected,
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The dancer of space,
A charming face,
Amazing mountains,
Music of fountains,
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It's the same old tale of love and hate,
Energy is the common writer of stories,
Matter is a slave of its probable fate,
One narrates one's efforts for the glories,
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Friends are here as well
and they are lovely and nice.
Friends I have all over the world,
from countries that are neither friendly
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Rhyming I see you.
O rose of pink colours,
soul's beauty in your fragrance
ecstatic I see the whole world is.
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The man reflected in his poetry is handsome and nice
From Odisa the land of green crops of rice
To the land of lovely and joyful festivals
I have only love to pay your poems' price.
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