In The Abyss Of Night Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

Thorns and thistles
Of memories are yet in the feet of my poems,
My ghazals are yet wrinkled, crease in crease,
Life has to yet bring the forsaken rhythm of love,
Who knows how many meanings came out
Of the abodes with the changed costumes
I have to recall them yet,
Thorns that bristled up in the throat of my pen,
They are yet to be quenched with the blood,
The caravans of thoughts
Whose camel-men slept exhausted
I have to yet awake their sand-laden eye-lids,
If there is sediment in the abyss of night
I have to cast it away, the ocean has not yet
Uncaught anklets of the shore,
And the winds have not yet broken any mast.
What is it, if the waves stepped ahead?
Let them come on,
The arms of my shores are capacious enough,
To encase them all, to embrace them all.

Written by Shazia Akbar
Translated by Muhammad Shanazar