The Tragedy Of Self Made People Poem by Amjad Islam Amjad

Those who tempers optimistic,
bright and buoyant,
what unusual fates they have.

Cleansing life's path
of thorns strewn,
assembling each straw
to build a nest,
trapping fragrance,
adorning gardens,
their life is spent.

Their life consumed,
they gift the flowers.
give all away.

Not that, the
drudgery of
the unending toil
goes unrewarded,
blood-money
for longings that die
goes unpaid.

All pleasures that life
enfolds, come their way;
with one and all
they are endowed,
but late always,
ever delayed.

Rewarded they are
for the slog, the grind
but bit by bit,
like borrowed money
returned in parts;
the actual writing
fading into the hidden rear.
In teeming spring,
their flowers all
are the last to bloom;
the sun in their courtyards
appears late.

[Translated from Urdu by Yasmeen Hameed]