My Dear People Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

How long my dear people,
How long we shall sprinkle essence of rose,
And smoulder fragrant contents.
How long we shall burn grates of hatred,
And how long we shall pour down
The rain of blood,
How long we shall light up lamp on the graves,
How long we shall strew flowers
On the graves of friends,
How long we shall make graves of our kids,
And how long we shall bury our bodies alive.

Now my dear people, my own people,
We shall not contrive ditches,
In the upcoming days;
We shall not extinguish our existence,
And our faces radiant like candles,
We shall not erase glowing names carved
On entrance of the heart,
We shall not en-kindle such lamps
As they may turn our houses into ashes.

Now my dear people, my own people,
Facilitate life confined in the walls of our own;
Mark difference,
Who is our own and who is an outlandish,
Why should we chase delusions,
Why should we tire our own souls,
This earth is the mother of us all,
We should be proud of it,
Why should we harm ourselves,
While fighting for the interests of others,
Why should we perforate our own eyes,
With the arrows of our own,
And why should we desolate our own existence.

If the strength of our own arms is true,
We should be proud of it,
We have to divert the track of waters,
And change dormant origins into gurgling fountains,
We have to make desolate, the house of plotters,
We have to search for the perpetual enemy,
We have to bless the descending generations,
And we have to bless ourselves too.

Written By Qayyum Tahir
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar