Nuzhat Fatima
Nuzhat Fatima Poems
Spring it is! Bouncy and crisp.
Sunshine, cheerful and sparkling.
The almond blossoms, as pretty as pink,
Why mustn't Cinderella dance again!
...
Life is a rainbow, why wear it dull!
Not gloomy grey, nor dark and glum.
Splash some red, add a dash of blue
Kiss some peach, drape a violet hue.
...
Vushun taaf chu harduk napi napi karaan
Poonpuran seeth chi baagun munz, Bombar ti nazaan
Hanah zard pahan chu yemi Bodwun boon'ni pun
Torun ti Khaam Har yii yaad paawan
...
Waketh now! O frail human;
yearning is a delusion, darkness real!
Thy cherished desire be lost in dark;
By Heaven, no dream, thus far hast come true.
...
Yet again, the world dances to the glory of her tulips;
masking the blush of her face with soiled hands, she mourns!
Vivid and vivacious, her crimsons wake up to a vernal spring,
In solitude she wails for the buds that ne'er bloomed.
...
I nurture the nestlings and I caress the wings;
I fashion the flights and I shapen the lives.
Many a thoughts I romance, for I design the dreams;
Many a skills I poetise, and thus the dark gleams!
...
Like Shahid, I would die in the opulence of autumn, but, cold dispirits me
Pray! Lying under the sheets of freshly tilled soil, I wish not to look blue.
Come Spring and my heart is a slave, a devotee, charmed by its visage
...
Nuzhat Fatima Biography
I teach chemistry and play with words in English, Persian and Kashmiri.)
The Best Poem Of Nuzhat Fatima
Why Mustn't Cinderella Dance Again
Spring it is! Bouncy and crisp.
Sunshine, cheerful and sparkling.
The almond blossoms, as pretty as pink,
Why mustn't Cinderella dance again!
Out of bed from one more winter,
Her bosom rises to the sinless breeze.
Pensive yet lavish like a dream,
A born Eden, she fancies one more ball.
The tales of oppression are no fable
Her rags are real and sorrow acute.
Beset with a curse, dyed in her own blood
Every spring, she wakens to live some more.
It is time! Tulips bejewel her emerald frock,
And the falls frame glass slippers on her feet.
A snug shikara is her golden carriage,
And the depths of the Lake, her loyal coachmen.
Ah! She dances like she has never danced before
For, who knows, how distant the next spring is!
Her summers are timid and autumns cold
Thus, she dances like she has never danced before.
Her moves in meadows, firm and tireless,
Cinderella waltzes like a Queen of resilience.
Her pace through Boulevard, smooth and sensuous,
Cinderella swans like a native enchantress.
Every spring, she readies for the ball
Every spring, she loses a glass slipper.
No Prince has come in search yet,
No vows of peace and passion held.
Thence, in her fields and on her streets,
Beside the tulips and by the Lake,
Like a Tsarina of a charmed kingdom,
This spring, why mustn't Cinderella dance again!
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4/26/2024 6:10:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
