On The Second Day Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

I went through
This busy bazaar
Yesterday;
Here sat a man
With the wares of bangles,
And fake ornaments,
Who chanted with a melodious sound,
Echoing, mingling,
Into the evening gale,
And around him sat some damsels,
With overflowing emotions,
Selecting the ornaments
Trying them on fingers,
And delicate wrists.

There sat an old man:
A fruit-vendor selling oranges,
And claiming them the rarest in the land.
I can recall the beheld smile on his face,
And shine in the eyes.

There beside the electric-pole,
Lay a man with amputated legs,
And each passerby threw a coin or two,
In the begging-bowl,
Place in front, and went on with penitence.

I n the middle
There stood a steak-seller,
Who fanned fire of coals,
And with agility turned over
The spicy steaks,
Forked on the iron-spikes;
A few men gathered around,
Ate them with relish, and I too
Passed by with a drooling mouth.

Beside him stood a toy-seller,
The kids dragged behind the parents,
When they passed by,
With a wish to afford them
Balls and balloons.

In that corner
There sat a fortune teller;
Around him sat the young boys
Spreading their palms,
Anxious to know about their future,
And the palmist described to them,
Stars and crosses, and hair on
The lines of life, heart and mind.

Ah! Today the spot is lamenting,
Just a few hours ago,
Have been gathered,
Human shreds, bones and skulls,
Limbs and legs,
Placed jumbled, indiscriminate,
In the ambulances.
A few remains left behind
Of destroyed vehicles,
Of blackness of soot mingled
Into redness of human blood,
Of explosives: a pungent smell.