Poems by Ayub Khawar / Translated by Prof. Muhammad Shanazar

Poems by Ayub Khawar
A cry of a Syrian child
O! America
Stop this brutal and inhuman action against humanity
Don’t destroy the innocence of my childhood,
Don’t ravage my sleep, filled with dream of peace
O! the barbarians! stop this chemical war
Stop to destroy my motherland
Look at me,
The biscuits of my share
Have been shattered into shards
By the bomb blasts,
Hunger bursts like explosives,
Between my chest and stomach
The pieces of lamentation have stuck
Into my throat,
They are neither swallowed nor gorged
Look for a while to this side…here,
There cling to bare soles of my feet
Exhaustion of intense explosives
Being rained for years,
On the wilderness of my motherland,
And the iron-kites are constantly
Flying over my head,
And I am empty bellied.
O! America
In my lap I have sterile earth of my land
And the pieces of exploded missiles.
What will you give me,
Against this drabbed earth and rubble of missiles and chemicals?
But my innocence, beats of hearts, smiles, dreams,
Books, copies, pencils, classrooms, Desks, chairs, playgrounds,
Wings of butterflies, my fellows, families colours of flowers,
And the entire “peace”
Can you give me back all this
Which is still breathing under the ruins of my motherland..
When Did You Love
When did you love me?
My soul!
It was I,
Who loved you,
Your gray fragrance
Is knotted with my silky desire
Theses knots slip
From the pores of my phalanges
But doesn’t untie.
They may unfasten
If the magic of your cold silence breaks,
And the eyes mixing
Into the dust of pain of separation wash away.
When did you love me?
It was I who loved you,
You just placed some couplets of your silky touch,
In the soft-pink hand cups,
Transformed into the abyss of my heart,
And strewn on my shoulders
Some of my poems,
Kneaded in the moisture of your lips.
When did you love me?
It was I who loved you,
You were only to dissolve me
Into your cold crimson eyes,
Sunk very deep in mysteries.
So, I being a worthless moment have embraced
With the dust of your feet, till now
Neither did you dust your feet,
Nor did you place that worthless moment
Upon your forehead.
What contains for me, in the fist of your silence!
Everything may be there
But no shimmer of confession,
As if an ocean has surged but without coastline.
When did you love me?
My soul!
It was I who loved you,
Loved your colour,
The universe of colours,
The exceptional magic of your seamless conversation;
And murky fog of your distinct style of conversation
I love your
Lies, truths, expediencies and green moss of expediencies,
On the damp cold surface on which
Magnificent moments of my age were engraved,
Now waft into the air like dreams,
Those magnificent moments of my life
Whom the youthful climate
Of your lips and cheeks has sent exile
From the kingdom of your beauty;
Even then,
I don’t know why this heart,
Kneaded in the yellow clay,
Remains in your quest,
Why at last!
You know why this worthless heart,
Even now, each time gets bruised,
By the nails of your fingers,
Do you know my soul!
Translated by Prof. Muhammad Shanazar

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