Imran Yousuf

Imran Yousuf Poems

Leaves have started to fall, so they say we are in autumn,
Everything has started to turn red and grey. We are in autumn.

I want this morning and music and warmth of your hand with mine,
...

I lost hold of my tipsy heart and I drained ash grey veins,
You slipped through my clutches, so I fanned ash grey veins.

The moon in the sky darkened, debased by clouds,
...

Do you mewl too Jaana in the cold nights
under the blanket with no words to whisper?

Did you too fall in love, forget the names and titles?
...

Why this garboil everywhere, when I hardly had a sip!
Neither I did any thievery nor committed a robbery

From the maw of the inexperienced preacher, these words come-
...

Imran Yousuf Biography

Imran Yousuf is a Poet/Writer/Columnist/ Translator from Kashmir, India. Currently working as Columnist and Journalist, he has contributed his poems to various reputed magazines, journals and international anthologies. He has co-authored more than 30 anthologies and has also written a series of articles, about the great Sufi Poets of the Kashmir Valley (starting from 14th century) , which were published across various newspapers and magazines and now being compiled into a book (to be launched soon) . He is presently engaged in interviewing the current generation of great poets from the Kashmir valley. The articles will also be compiled and given the shape of a book soon.)

The Best Poem Of Imran Yousuf

Ghazal (Autumn)

Leaves have started to fall, so they say we are in autumn,
Everything has started to turn red and grey. We are in autumn.

I want this morning and music and warmth of your hand with mine,
I want this light whole night, come, let's pray, we are in autumn.

Look at the colours of this world. It makes me whirl.
Don't ask what love can do in a day. We are in autumn.

Within me lies an ocean where a thousand wishes die in a minute,
Can you see the sunset with a single ray? We are in autumn.

In midnight I seek the clueless and dream the hopeless,
Under the wet hem of my robe, I hear His word 'nay'- we are in autumn.

It's the love of dried leaves which make me sit under the Chinar,
When I die I will soar above and angels will make a way; we are in autumn.

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