A Poem In Between Life And Death Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

O! Life see,
How we are sitting at your threshold,
Having in hands
A begging-bowl of prudence,
The eyes hold a dream to see
The colour of a seasonal rose,
But our lips have clenched unstamped
Complaints since ages.

O! Life,
We are sitting at you threshold,
See just for a while
And whisper to us
which is the night for us
who bear delicate dispositions,
When in the *anchal of that night,
The wind will convert our dream
Into the mirror of dream.

Which is the day for the journey
Through the desert of desires
Just to have a touch of yours
We have enkindled in the tent of heart,
The lamps of your ‘Being’,
But no trace of your soft fall of the feet,
Voice, presence and fragrance
We could have had.

See just for a while,
Our souls perches on the brims of our lips,
But only to hear a word of consolation.
O! Life see,
How we are sitting at your threshold,
Having in hands the begging-bowl of prudence.

Written by Ayub Khawar
Translated by Muhammad Shanazar


*Anchal: a light thin colourful covering that is worn on head by the Eastern women.