City of saints
Is mourning
Dark shaded blood
Reflecting on leaves
Of chinar, in the graveyard
Of our dreams.
Our dreams sobbing
In the lacerating edges
Of barbarous razor wire
Wars in every street
Is all we have,
bullets and stones
Are we crawling from
Murder of innocence
Is the title of lullabies
Mornings are heart wrenching
And nights are never-ending
Laps and bosoms
Carry an ocean of tears
Hearts and eyes
Are screaming untold stories
Mountains and skies
Are imbibing the cries
Every new born child
Is cursed in this lost paradise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
well written... ur poem clearly describes the problems faced by the beautiful Kashmir.....