Naveed Akram Poems

Never is the land fair when it rains,
For raining submits to the path that hurts;
Desks of teachers make teachings,
The rain is there to smother the rich in learning.
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Do not hate too hard:
The length of the clock
Is overgrown, it is for immortality.
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What is he writing? Listen to the sounds
Of the keys, how swiftly his fingers move!
The eager and loveliest minute is a thought above,
It is in that touch, the moving touch of sweetness.
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She loves those sailors of the holy deep,
To go is too much of this blade that hurts,
My distant scene is loved by those alerts,
This life misreads and damns the rest asleep.
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Defence prolongs indifference aloud,
It tastes the worth, it makes one cry too fast,
I work on those despairing in the crowd,
Then wonders cease, the worlds shall be amassed.
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Again I scrape my soul, my enjoyment is all reason,
I am now like a stage in the heavens, like a state of peace;
I spoke with a tender heart as I crawled up the ladder
That led to the castle of God, a far away place.
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My precious names forgive me,
In the sea of death is a police;
The watery wild begs much misery
To disappear, and concoct a little.
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I was always silent, though it was tiresome,
I was at my feet to wear the love of fatigue.
Bewilderment stood for the surprised moment
I experienced, when did this bring itself?
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Married to a doctor the daughter is freed from him,
It is her emancipation, the affair of decent jests;
One slavery is far greater to become
And that is patriotic duty, the very happiness is about.
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I observed with pain their unhappiness,
With a look of despair, riding a storm.
To suffer is to lose a feeling so pleasant,
My deep regards go to the lost hundreds.
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