Muhammad Shanazar Poems

Ah! The blows of autumnal wind,
Cold and callous, have encroached at last,
They have made the leaves their victims.
...

Nothing except wonder you behold,
Sitting among the modifiers of fate,
Radiating warmth, light of faith,
Transmitting through thin thread,
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Often my mind baffles,
And the stock of wisdom ends,
When I think with wonder upon
The amazingly perplexing figure.
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He who makes understands the scheme well,
The working riddles and amazing mysteries,
But the observers become stunned, tongue-tied,
On finding all rules of wisdom suspended.
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The fortunate make the choices well,
When chance and fate ring the bell,
And bring them to the moments of acceptance,
Their prayers are granted bounteously,
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To exaggerate is not the work of man,
I tell you fact, neither more or less
What incredible feelingly I did behold,
When my ethereal self was returning,
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How sometimes invisible secret eyes,
Capture marvellous fleeting visions,
And see the spectrum of reality,
But the wise regard a product of insanity.
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The rocking hands swayed me back,
The centuries full four and ten behind;
Placed me on the cold wet sandy bank,
At the time of dawn, half light, half night.
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Death dies herself and does not damage
Those who advance ahead underailed,
Following the prints of the wise pioneers
Whom He imparts the secrets of wisdom.
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The forceful wings of ethereal self,
Made me fly to the sky,
Transported to the world higher,
Bigger, larger and wider than ours.
...