Adnan Shafi (India)

Adnan Shafi (India)

Young Adnan Shafi, (23) was born and brought up in a middle class educated Bhat family, which belongs to Chandrigam in Tral area of Kashmir valley. He is a poet, writer, columnist, translator, short story writer, reviewer, blogger, motivational speaker, ghazal-writer, and editor.
“Coauthor of many anthologies..
Editor of the book published from Pak ” INKED GEMS”
Currently, He is working as an acquiring editor for British Magazine (Writerly )and the USA magazine (ILA). He has been internationally published and won poetry awards from numerous publications.In 2020 , he has been awarded by Gujurat sahitya academic for his book and poetry skills in writing .
His poetry book “TEARS FALL IN MY HEART’ depicts sorrows and vicissitudes of life.
Dear self! I bring not the griefs they
If thou adore pain, thou won’t hear
the yell.
Live all the life of woes, do have,
Know it will yank thee in the cave.
How wistfully the living of thee there?
Even so, all day and night, thou continue unaware.
Fuss not over will impel thee to do,
To uncover an omen at it, as bidding adieu.
The self, if you but mince the grief in bits
The grief evanesces, and then arrives in fits.
But once confiscated stiffly the self, will through his veins do fun,
Live by my verses, and sing well two or one.
I have found the foe
Where couples not greet,
To gardens where flowers
no bloomy and bees no eat,
And a few silly bees bow.
And I wish my life let go
Where walnuts sprout,
And where green leaves
On Earth-like a glossy rug
And no men with the spur
of ill will, be blanked out.
My beloved eyes glare as the morning sun;
Her eyes infused with shrewd thoughts;
They haunt, I should strenuously run;
I should shove off from the love lots.
I can become ensnared to her smile completely;
Her smile in the caliginosity glints all the way;
I love the essence of her then sweetly;
I don’t crave to mislay a chance of being at bay.
When I gaze her face, I obliviate all the pain;
I try to dwell in her dreams gripping her mind;
Let me now have the sweet sorrow of love in her lane;
Leaving every incurvate wing of love far behind.
I wish I could find something more,
But darkness doesn’t let on to pen anymore.

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