Nasir Kazmi Poems

I have called at the front of massacre!
I have announced the voice of my heart!

Before, I had broken a gap in the door.
This time I‘ve shaken the foundation!
...

Flower, nor Wine, neither Cup;
There are no signs of the past in my hand.

The leisure of my hobby has chained me.
My caprice has no way left to fly now.
...

The whispers of these fearful cities tremble in the air.
The eloquence of the land merely waits for an audience.

Shivering, the long nights put to us a haunting question.
Their laden sound-like silence hisses answers.
...

The breeze of rainy season blew. I thought of you.
The clapping chain of leaves played. I thought of you.

Ducks spoke in the green sea of rolling grass.
The season full of yellow blooms arrived. I thought of you.
...

The tears that I had saved for my eve of separateness
Glimmered through the dark eve as lamps.

O the comrades of my solitude! I look to you for firmness.
Here the Eve stands now, in wait, upon my doorstep.
...

This jungle with your timid tread grows my thorny memory.
If the dread of me defeats you, then move beyond my boundaries.

One moment your flower hand was laid upon my shoulder.
This moment it's me alone and a mangling bush of spines.
...

The caravan is slow, the travelers quiet.
The journey looms in a dreadful silence.

You want to speak but pronounce no words.
You see and pass like a vigilant, silent.
...

Seasons have receded from the garden of my being.
What I have observed is unsettling. Don't ask.

Your hands are disabled.
Pick the bloom of sight with lashes.
...

The embers of my ache die. Come. I need to pass my night.
Prolong the hold of the dousing grief. Ease the ritual of the night.

Wailing in separation is a custom of the waning past.
Re-enact this custom, friends. Spur the flow of the leaden night.
...