Thanks To The Dove Of Peace Poem by Akhtar Jawad

How can I love my creator the most ancient one?
Neither have I can envelope Him in my arms
Nor I can hug Him and nor can I kiss His forehead,
So I love my virtual creators and their charms.
I don't see my God but I see my caressing parents
I feel pains of my parents and their kind sentiments.

Pains of my mother that she felt while giving my birth
Pains of my father that he faced in growing me in a man
But how can I return their hardships and their struggles?
No, I cannot; for it I thought again, I think yes I can.
The pain of birth has been returned by my lovely wife
I return to their grandchildren my struggles in my life.

The principal loan I have repaid but its compound interest?
Here are my grandchildren the legal heirs of my dead parents,
You are very good, better than all others, you are the best,
Come to me sweet hearts with your unending indents,
Whatever is left with me, if I see it is deficient for repayments,
My precious life I can sell for you and your lovely indents.

It's amazing; it's wonderful I listen to a strange heavenly voice
All your loans I have repaid, leaving only your parent's love,
Return it to my all creatures with its compound interest,
To the man, to the beasts, to the insects, even to the greenery,
To the dove that flies hungry and thirsty with a branch of olive
Injured many times severely but in love of peace she is still alive.