Avarice to Overcome a Meek Grain Poem by Dr.jawaz Jaffri

What kind of incident it is,
That the most splendid women,
Of my era are carrying,
On their heads the bundles of pangs,
Of their beloved misplaced;

Stood in front of thorny fence of steel-wire,
Waiting to enter into their own lands;
In their reddish eyes,
Their well furnished houses burn.

My elders entrusted me a better world,
But I am compelled to hand over,
The descending generation a deformed world.
The crops have forgotten

The skills to grow in my farms,
Their lay ambush the dynamites in my soil.

Would that I may take all children
Of the world in my shelter!
On seeing subterranean walk of the death
In my heart creeps a wish to kiss beloved feet.

We in avarice to overcome a meek grain,
Are busy to dig out the graves of one another,
When there exists a splendid immense
Universe restless to listen the sound of strides.