Poems by Mohammad Mohi Uddin

Poems by Mohammad Mohi Uddin
Take the Photograph Down
Hyacinth girl, you’re the surrogate name of beauty,
Pronounced hymns in favor of you in the lustrous horizon,
Wild Shamoli is the golden pleasant of the modern stage!
Each and every subdivision is melodious with the clop of anklet today!
Cities awaken by the demon’s howl; Yet let the increment to be delighted.
Have gusto in digging burial – let the caravan of politics to be glittered!
Switch pressed finger of trigger is the creative son of the nation,
The angel, of my town, is exalted with the glory of blood.
The extensive dyad unclad pix of billboards,
The ripple of easeful merciless laughter,
Being rain of satisfaction moistens people’s heart!
In the name of art, organisms swing on TV screen,
The scarf is kiting, pushing soften lace of dress, breasts are displaying
Sofa, unborn infant, refrigerator, doorway and homeland is being purified.
Only take down the photograph of bards,
Them, are the absolute miscreants of 56 thousand square miles.
Pillow’s Witness
Diversified lachrymation drains through my tears.
In my weeping——
The visionary monument of fissile traveler is, alike falling off leaves in summer,
wrapped with the ardor of famishing face; doddery spoiled land,
Some vocal cords; endless thirst throughout the spoken tone,
Pitiful announcement of discontent;
Faded face of curfew flame,
Variant colour of painful household.
Diversified lachrymation drains through my tears.
In my weeping—–
Trackless destination,
Palace without doss,
Torrent blunt sword,
Vessel without steersman,
Loveless mother’s lap.
My pillow is witness –
My weeping rides on anonymous camel’s backrest and visiting around, brings off the sorrows of remoter path!
Diversified lachrymation drains through my tears!
They and We
They’ll move on the thornless, attracting – pliable path;
Our feet walk on the atrocity of crushed crystals.
Avoiding people’s groan –
The flickers of their socket’s sights are firmed to self-destination.
They’ll give over if once, only discover their own residence,
Never will realize, being too close to goal even they’re faraway.
Our eyes will passage the immense skyline,
Only they’ll win handful felicity of all around.
Shaping our passion into cloud
Will ooze mild shower, will be rainy,
Whereas they’ll call upon irrational overflow!
A Prayer for My Son
I realise — without identifying the source of water and glacis, my son will raise mundane song of love,
Uprooting the root, he’ll blow up the fleeting flag on the deceitful path.
I realise – leaving the soundtrack of modesty,
My son will play the drum of slander,
Crossing the hamlets – passing through the grassland, he’ll build the home of cognition with undressed book.
I realise – my son, forgetting his identity, will step in on the nameless pathway with joy,
Being fellow of shadow, he’ll fracture the compact unbilical cord like piece of ancient rock.
I realise – without searching the purity in forgiveness, my son will place the conciliation of life in sting,
Being not mournful in the weep of green, cloud or infant, he’ll burn them stalks of sense with blood and flame.
O God, you bestow grassland into his juvenility,
Fulfill with endless love in the blue of his sight,
Place detailed cogitation inside of scalp,
Pour the billowy stream into sigh,
Lay down eternal future in his vision,
Allow the flammable strength of oyster in his spirit,
Bring off needful grains in a palm,
Teach him – cession, invitation, forgiveness, lamentation,
Educate him – shame, remembrance, accost, perpetual thirst.
Horrifying dark is getting down in the vortex of time!
I’m leaving radical poesy in favor of him;
Nonetheless – can’t overcome from the fright,
Therefore, O my God; I devoted my prayer to you.

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