Naveed Akram Poems

Love sings in the flowing river,
A source of love shines light down,
Inside the emotion of hate is a forgiver,
I adore a law saying pride of the crown.
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Open this book after closing it,
A page from a crafty pen is written;
The ink and sheets of paper stay together,
A dagger can not sigh on the word.
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In this world of acres there is all being,
Collecting weeds to kill and degrade,
All creation subjugates the senses.
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Your heaven is engaged in springing and jumping,
Underneath the sky is pictured the spirit abounding.
May God seal their hearts and so forever expel the ones,
No matter the appearance of actions, whatever the admirations.
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The prophets are men of astonishing zeal,
Greatness reigns over their souls, so much meal.
Every prophet guarantees the result, the last day,
Professing special causes, leaning on shoulders.
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Inside the thought is an array of knowledge,
When do computers basically examine this object of the mind?
Never do they scrutinize, never do they work on brains,
Like going to movies in the cinema, and risking their lives.
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Toilsome exercise began sympathizing with masses,
The work raised itself, belonging to our abacuses.
The joy of our times touches on beautiful palpitations;
Whittle away the clocks. Whittle away the hours and agitations.
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Bitter fruits cast regrets to the lower heart,
It grows pale and swollen by the hour,
Turning into an orange of suffering and obedience.
The heart is the actor of the lifetime,
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