Mohammad Younus Koul


The Passionate Fighter - Poem by Mohammad Younus Koul

The Passionate Fighter

Under the Chinar tree, there is an army bunker,
With heavy guns close to the chest of the sons-of-soil,
Their passion for freedom is more strong than their life,
It bursts into a raging fire in their hearts,
No packages of jobs, trade, and business,
Can douse the raging flames in their hearts,
And if enemy would try to buy them with wealth,
Contempt and hate is all that he will get,
They don't want to be like puppies -suckling the breasts of a bitch,
They believe that the resistance is the sweetest thing
As it ultimately overturns the oppressors
Resistance is counted as the bitterest thing
By those who never stand and resist
How they will know what the resistance is
Only a patient suffering from a painful
disease
Can tell you the meaning and value of bitterness
Who readily takes the bitterest syrup
As if it were a glass of honey full to the brim
Gotten from the honey stream of the paradise
He knows that this bitter medicine can give
Peace, relief and comfort to him
No one of the shame submitters and traitors -
Who hoist the flag of occupiers;
Who mock my feelings of misery -
Can tell the definition and meaning
So clear of resistance for freedom
Only the youngman - charged with passion
For reclaiming his land and sovereignty -
Can tell you why to rise and fight
Against occupation and killer-hordes
He hears the creaking sound of the mill of occupation
Grinding into powder our future generation
He fights, resists, and protests
With dry twigs, clods, and pebbles
Against massacre, rape, and suppression
His voice is muzzled, He is maimed and blinded
He is brutalized in the dark torture cells
As he falls a martyre - breathing his last -
At the threshold of freedom - he gives a piercing shriek
That trembles and quakes the throne of onlooking God -
I am a martyre, I have shed my blood
I have done my job, I have achieved my purpose
I am going, carry on my mission
My job is half done, you do the rest
Never submit or succumb to tyrants
What is the purpose of life of a slave
Who doesn't resist and fight to be free

Mykoul

Mykoul

Topic(s) of this poem: freedom


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 3, 2019

Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 3, 2019


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