A Song Of The Lost Generations Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

A swarm of the birds came down,
Passed by caressing water.
O age!
O age of the caravans!
In search of what you passed over
The waters of centuries,
The arriving and departing springs
Came and went off what for,
And what for the evening
Through spaces passed away
Sinking in blood; and we passed away
From our lives what for.

In persuasion of what the dew drops,
Settled on the trees,
After the leaves had fallen apart.
The dew fell upon the desert,
By and by but dissipated in an instant.
The life of stars,
The whole life of all objects,
Sank down into the tears.
A gust of breeze passed away,
But grappling,
Who knows where has gone the wind.

The volley of arrows,
Went through swishing, quivering,
From the bow, who knows whom for.
Which were the desires that broke us into pieces,
And who should tell whom,
Now who rests where.

O falling shower, Soaring birds!
O breaking stars!
O my search exhausted friends!
Where do you dwell call us aloud?
We are nameless astray boats,
In the bankless blue ocean.
O! The wind of shores take us along,
We are the diminishing marks
Of curiosity from the snow clad valleys.
O! Life take us along,
In the darkness of forests,
We are rustling sounds of the steps
Halting on the dried leaves.
O! Guiding light take us along,
We are hotness of the journey,
We are dust of the route,
We are the age but too precise,
We are alive for an instant…
O! Wind take us along.
Where have gone You God?
Take us along! Take us along!


Written by:
Dr. Swarwar Kamran
Translated by:
Muhammad Shaanzar