Cry Of Sculptures - Poem by Akhtar Jawad
Millions of years have passed,
The sculptor is busy in making his own idols,
I see billions of idols,
The efficiency of sculptor is increasing day by day,
And the tired sculptor is now deficient in breaking,
When he thinks an idol is complete,
And he looks into crystal eyes of the idol,
He sees himself grown more beautiful,
And we, the idols, broken many times,
Are broken once again,
That’s our fate!
The sculptor will remain busy in sculpturing,
We shall be broken again and again,
Our life is a gap,
When the tired sculptor dries his sweat,
We enjoy the gap for eighty or ninety or hundred years,
Or even more, or a gap too short!
Our life is just a gap!
For the sculptor just a few moments!
Let us enjoy this moment before we are broken!
Don’t waste it in hate,
We can pass it in love and friendship,
Come on sweetheart,
As a friend,
Whatever you like,
Let us hug each other,
Let us kiss each other,
At least shake the hands,
The sweat of sculptor,
Is about to dry,
Many idols will be broken,
And we may be one of the broken idols!
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