MATLOOB BUKHARI


AN ODE TO POVERTY


AN ODE TO POVERTY
Matloob Bokhari

In my land, plenty of poor live in pain,
In baking heat, languish in sad disdain.
In gnawing hunger; no choice but to endure.
Drink dirty water; weeping go to sleep.
In the hovel of clay, have no lamp.
In the light of stars, naked kids play.
Infants too weak; in silent sobs depart.
O poorest of the poor, waiting in vain.
No rescuer will come to address your woes.
Feudal, mullah, peer in palaces only pray.
O ill-starred multitudes, in slavish chain,
Not Nature but leaders are to blame.
O my friend, O the brightest star in sky,
All wrongs are done by the dearest words,
Rise to light a candle of hope in their way.

Submitted: Friday, May 02, 2014

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