Muhammad Shanazar Poems

Oh! Departed Soul,
Look behind a while,
How quicker the sighs consumed!
How sooner dried the tears!
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Oh my God! I am weak and fail,
In my wills to the beguiling Enemy,
Who tempts me against prohibitions,
Rides on my fragile heart and mind,
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Oh Friend! To avoid shameful disgrace,
And earn favours in the Mighty Court,
Nip off the evil intents in the bud,
Lest they should assume the shape of words,
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Time is the ultimate healer,
Of wounds deep and grievous,
Soaks the tears to bring them afresh,
A thing mazy round, braided coiled,
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The world is an apt wide moving market,
Around a huge enormous shining globe,
That makes the trade smooth and plain,
Brightens its stalls, shops and taverns,
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A bestial sport that erases,
The names of men from the book,
Of creatures fair and courteous;
Brutalizing into the savage beasts.
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Who knows how sooner the journey ends,
The clouds what direction the wind rends,
On each moment of the fleeting days,
The sacred substance coats our highways.
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A physician that relives,
Pangs of all maladies,
Indiscriminate to small or great;
Treads under the heavy hooves,
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I bother not who regards me,
A split being or a psycho-case,
Telling you fact, undoubted fact.
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The war, and exhibition of human shreds,
A show of skulls, flesh, blood and bones,
A bestial game, turning men into beasts,
And abhorrent spot on the fair forehead,
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