I Am A Poet. Poem by Aftab Alam
I Am A Poet.
Up there on that hill
There’s a thatched house with eves
I know; there he lives.
Near the door there is a sill,
Sat whole night talking with stars,
Nay; sorry, hope with heaven
Without any break, full seven
Pigeons sleep fearlessly,
Room inside remained dark,
Outside a burning boom,
Viewers say he lies over the house.
I have seen his unmoved eyes
Over the skies!
During the day
Pigeons with gay
Dance and sing round the sill
Thousands of pigeon on that hill
Live in that house
No rain rained ever upon him
Water in the pitcher always up to brim
A miracle of miasma
Blurs eyes, a charisma
What you see that may be a maze
Unseen is seen through the haze
Pangs of lost vision we face
Blindness can’t lose the vision
Vision is lost humanity dies
What is the use of the eyes?
If it can’t perceive, can’t realize///
eyes of pure heart reality of the true world they see behind tented false in our worlds
While reading your poem, I was thinking: you are very similar to Gulzar sahab in your writing style, only the language is different. Well, reading your note about this poem, it is clear you think like him too! For young poets like us, you are an inspiration. War and peace, defense and security; international system is beyond the understanding of us, everyday folks. The needs and the wants of the common men are sacrificed. In the book I am currently reading [The Quiet american by Graham Greene] a line says, ...in five hundred years, there may be no New York or Lodon, but they will still be growing paddy in their fields...
O Aftab, really you are great, you have a clear vision. I salute you. I am grateful to you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:46:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
.All one ever has to do is follow the money trail and it always leads back to the elite... great poem Aftab