Poems by Mohd Shafi
Awaking at sunrise in the tent,
I,inhale inside my body her scent;
Man-eaters foot-prints were on the side;
My body is hollow and the soul ride.
She killed me in her skilled Love,
She burns me on her cooking stove;
She is cooking inside me:
Body is here and the soul flee.
I asked my soul,”why you are in love with her?”
She hides her Love in her cunning fur,
My Love Yields charms to beat;
After day and night,I rests in her seat.
She haunts me even on my bed,
In my sleep,she explores in my head;
She is violent Tigress in my being:
Colourful butterflies,colourful flowers seeing,
In orchard how to sting their (flowers) way!
They enjoy and injure beings for their skilful day.
Stars of Night exist to attack the dark night,
After every comes the day Light.
The boat is eager in the sea,
Its tiller holds its beauty.
The sad and happy mast put forward its power,
While voyaging a Sailor discern a flower.
The flower’s beauty shines in the cloud;
A wind piping so loud.
It’s jib sail and the tiller,both are fresh,
Memories died but jerks refresh
The instincts of memories to dance with the main halyard:
To decorate the journey of harder ship about the cosmic Hilliard.
The weather is hot and crows hold,
Water everywhere in the sea,behold
The twilight of the day
Nights from days and nights from days are barely away.
The trees on the port are fluttering with the breeze from a year,
The wind of Love is constant,persistent and dear:
It is helping the boat to move ahead;
Years are green.Toil is the eternal word, Said
By the sea birds repeatedly more and more,
Drizzling rays of the sun on the watery floor
rests on the ocean bed
Sweet sweeter sound in the head.
Farming of Kharpora
The Sun is hot
‘Tis my Land
Where I and my bulls stand.
On the name of our Lord
I’ll start ,because He is my God.
I began to plough
With me birds on the bough
Eternally they start to sing
Welcoming summer rejoicing spring .
The corn is in the field
Only Lord is farmers shield
Sweating of my face and bull
The Sun is hot but I’ll toil still
in my field to break the heat of drought
For the harder ships of life I’ll fought.
I ‘ll start my hard work
To difficulties I’ll jerk
My hard work will one day bloom
Its sweetness will perfume.
I will sow crop in the field
My Lord is its shield.
He is growing my dry crops into a plant
He is wise knowing my want
It is the Kashmiri farmers narration
The Lord is viewing our station.
Copy right MOHD SHAFI
Kharpora Gowharpora Kashmir